Apr 20, 2009

The odds of joy

Reflections

Sometimes I try to weight the variables. I try to calculate the odds of this. I try to chart all the courses careening and note all the ways things could have gone differently than they did. It's like physics predicting the pattern of spilled noodles, but these noodles are like Motzart to me, and sometimes I try. I try to flag all those moments that added up to this, to go back and appreciate all the weird things which, through the weird math of this-followed-that, turned out to equal this.

I can't do it all in my head. I get lost in the coincidences, the consequences, the chaos of protons banging neutrons and the generations of accidents and adults who didn't know what they were doing. I lose my way in the chain reactions. I lose my way in the counting of quarks per spin. I lose the line of destination as I try to follow the foreordination back to the Big Bang of my happiness. I get lost in it and just say I don't know. I don't know; I got lucky. What are the odds of joy? I say, and it's a rhetorical question, because I can't do the calculation.