I Don't Believe in Fate, Except...

Destiny, fate, astrology? Nah. Not for me. I like science and realistic stuff. And yet! Weird stuff keeps happening and I don't know why. Because it definitely isn't because of destiny, fate, or astrology. Defo. Last year, I wrote about how being open minded towards more things, seems to open up opportunities. I riffed about Noel Edmonds for a bit, and seem to remember explaining how to obtain a helicopter all of one's own. Fans of such concepts, can read more here. 

This week, the latest event in a recurring pattern, happened. Let me give you a bit of background.

Lovely Donald Tusk would
say there's a special place
 in hell for those without a sketch
of a plan. But here I am, with no
 meaningful clue about the future.
(I've not been tasked with sorting
Brexit though, so it's fine.)

I don't plan big picture stuff more than about a year ahead. I've moved from school, to University, to job after job, without knowing where it was leading until it led here. Conversely, I plan my day to day stuff to the nth degree (I currently know what I ingredients I need to buy on Wednesday for the meals I will be eating until Saturday) but the larger, life-long planning has never really been a thing for me. Yet, I do seem to have had opportunities fall into my lap without much hassle.

Living the (teaching) dream. Once upon a time.

Back in the day, I didn't want to be a teacher. I worked in part-time play schemes, in a variety of schools, taking the pay cheque and wondering what I really wanted to do. One day, when I arrived at a new placement school, the vibe was different. It was vibrant and exciting. I walked through the corridors to the community room, thinking, 'I don't want to be a teacher but if I did, I'd want to teach here.' End of thought. Several jobs and a year's PGCE later and I was appointed a Y1 teacher at that same school. I had not planned it. It wasn't something for which I'd strived. Circumstances just fell into place one by one. I had the thought, and then a few years later, to my surprise, it happened.

2016. The best of times.

Or how about this? In 2011 I read an article by Caitlin Moran about how her and her family loved holidaying in Aberystwyth. It was a childhood holiday destination of my own, and it made me happy that it was getting a bit of recognition. I idly pondered, as I read the Sunday Times, that it would be cool to swan off on my own, and rent a seaside apartment, without needing a caravan full of family members to accompany me. I even did an online search of the apartment company she referenced. Then I forgot about it. As IF I were ever going to do that in real life. LOLZ. Then, in 2016, after a mad-busy, knackering summer, I decided a couple of days by the sea would be good before the beginning of autumn. I looked at AirBnBs in Cornwall, Whitby and Scotland, but then decided to stick with somewhere I knew. I booked an apartment in Aber. At this point, I'd forgotten all about Caitlin's article. It was just a practical decision to spend downtime in a place I knew my way around. The memory only resurfaced when I recognised the place she'd stayed at - a few doors away from my own rental. Last week was the fourth year in a row I've done my Aber escape. Somewhere since that article, I found the confidence to holiday alone, swan around, and enjoy every seaside second. Maybe, without realising it, I'd subconsciously planned it back in 2011 and as such, it was always going to happen at some point.

Fast forward to last September. I skirted around these themes after I'd attended a networking skills course as part of the London Screenwriters' Festival. A friend dragged me along, so I was only making up numbers. Despite that, it was scary stuff. It was also, however, undeniably useful. When I got home, I thought that even though it would be stressful doing that with 'my own people', maybe I should look for a novel writer's festival somewhere. I casually searched online for something, then forgot about it. Last week, a friend from my writing group (something else I'd thought about for a bit before it fell into my lap) messaged me to suggest I go to the National Association of Writing Groups' conference in Warwick. So, at the time of typing, that's what I'm going to do. Obviously I feel uber-panicky about having to chat to strangers and pull off being witty, clever and likeable all at once, but still. If the universe gives you an opportunity, it probably pays to grab it.

I still don't believe in destiny and astrology and stuff. It's not for me and my spiritually bankrupt soul. However, I wonder whether by forming a thought in its entirety, by creating a vision of a plan - no matter how far fetched it appears at the time - it gives the subconscious a clearer path to follow in the future. Lordy. I sound like someone that I'd avoid if they said that to me out loud. I apologise. It's just that, if you can picture it and see it, then you can be it and do it. It becomes a possibility. That works with little kids seeing female footballers excel, as well as middle-aged women picturing a networking scenario that might be useful to them in the second career into which they've wandered. So now all I'm left to do is imagine myself as an energetic beauty, selling gazillions of books, as I look out on my Aberystwyth clifftop beach house. Who knows? It might come true.

Have a lovely week, folks.