Think of the forces in life you cannot see.

Think of the forces that give you good dreams. The ones that land gently in your thoughts with snow flake feet and the best intentions. Think of the forces that touch your forehead with one finger and make you play wonderful films in your head, films that make you feel like changing the world isn’t some foolish notion created by fairy tales and motivational speakers. Think of the forces that make you feel like the color in a world of black and white.

Think of the miracle of fortunate circumstance. Think of a time when you met the exactly right person at the exactly right place at the exactly right time. Think of all the actions that were set in motion that lead you to that destination. Think of how the events of that person’s life fell perfectly into place. They could have done an unlimited amount of other things. They could have stopped and bought a coffee. They could have smoked a cigarette. But they didn’t. They were there. And so were you. Call it coincidence. Or call it fate. But don’t call it unremarkable.

There are bad forces, too. Ones that can make each day seem colder than the one before regardless of the weather, ones that can sully even the brightest of sunshines. Sometimes you feel that inexplicable nudge, that subtle jab that makes you snap at your loving mother for asking you to do something as simple as letting out the dog. Sometimes you get mad at the world for no other reason than letting you live in it.

Think of that tiny pulse inside you that sometimes makes you jealous of a friend’s good fortune. Think of that faint push that made you do something you knew you were going to regret. Think of that voice that made you believe you were transparent with nothing but a chilly whisper.

Maybe these things exist, these well-intentioned or malicious specters. Maybe they float through the world, fighting over who gets to make or ruin our days. Or maybe the good and bad, the beautiful and ugly in our lives is dependent on whether or not we are ready to accept that which is before us. Maybe dark and light are dependent only on the colors we choose to recognize in the paintings of our lives. Maybe everything depends on what we choose to believe.

Maybe it’s not up to these invisible, indeterminable forces. Maybe it’s up to us.

Or maybe it isn’t.

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