May 19, Plan and Outcome
Almanac for Post Moderns
What’s the room for chance in day? And, what is crowded out by our social engineering? If in seeing things I move from mate to fate, from amused to the spinning of some muse, from chance to outcome bound, I’ve moved from love to telos. Kindness has no outcome. Orchids certainly don’t.
Old yarns like “Stands to Reason” are social prophesies I spin myself into. “By the grace of . . .”; “the ultimate withering of the State is . . .”; “that Ladyslipper is there because . . .”; These and prayer wheels: so much welcomed chance.
I married a woman who lived within 50 miles of me, quite by chance. She lives by motherhood, plant hood, loose but creative ‘design’ — she is a nurturer whose contour doesn’t pretend any teleological plan of nature. She is what she is. Took seven seconds for me to see; seven years to fully embrace.
That lapse of seasons, years, tell of a lived gap. That gap flows through me as limit. Reason cannot fill it. Power, antithetical — climb into a Ladyslipper’s labellum to better know her? Hardly. By intent (and chance) alter the conditions which breed such gaps? Yes. There lies ample room for daily chance.
