Pile of Good Things; or, Trusting the Doctor

The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. Hey. (hugs Amy) The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant. -Doctor Who, 5x10: "Vincent and the Doctor"

The strangest thing: I realized recently that, for the first time ever, I am happy where I am employed. Reason number a-whole-lot for this: my supervisor, who smiles almost constantly, takes pictures of beautiful things with her iPhone to share with other people, and who today, upon coming back from lunch, set a two-headed dandelion on the circulation desk and inquired whether I was at all religious, and, if so, whether I thought there was a philosophical reason for unusual and wonderful things like that dandelion or if I believed, like her, that things are sometimes "good for no reason."

And maybe they are, you know? Maybe, in the same way that good things can happen for no reason, sometimes the bad things that happen aren't the result of some misdeed or sin of our own, but truly random. It has been my opinion for some time now that whatever higher intelligence exists, it is more of an architect than an author: the pieces have been put in place and the experiment has been set into motion, but our actions are our own, and our future is based on the consequences (good or bad) of our decisions, not on some predetermined path set before us at birth by some old bearded man living in the sky.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the Pile of Good Things, and trying to focus on that. Yesterday, I turned 25 years old, I am preparing to move across the country--again--and the uncertainty of not having a place to live or a job in my new home is terrifying. But there are so many good things in the world! These things are as small as getting to sleep in on Monday and Wednesday mornings or getting to walk past cherry blossoms on the Quad on my way to class, or as profound as listening to Beethoven's Ninth Symphony or reading the letters Van Gogh sent to his brother and thinking, someone, somewhere, who I have never met, got it. The final few weeks of my Masters Degree are going to be hectic and packed full, and it's remembering small, happy things that keep me motivated when I'm absolutely exhausted.