Pen to Paper

Morpheus: Do you believe in fate, Neo?
Neo: No.
Morpheus: Why not?
Neo: Because I don’t like the idea that I’m not in control of my life.
-The Matrix

The ideas of fate and destiny are not very popular nowadays. This is especially true in America, where everyone clings to the right to live the life of their dreams. The idea that our lives have already been determined by any sort of fate, destiny, God, or gods is almost repugnant. Compared to past societies, we are unusually enamored with the concepts of freedom and free will.

It strikes me as odd that opponents of fate pick and choose what they control and what is out of their hands. How many people will say “I control my life,” yet still believe in concepts like true love? (I know most people won’t claim to believe in true love – but how many of them still watch movies like Serendipity, Enchanted, Moulin Rouge, and the like?) When someone succeeds, we tell them “You did it!” At failure, we say “It wasn’t meant to be.” At an unconscious level, at least, the idea of fate has survived into the 21st century.

It is interesting to note, though, the scale on which people deal with fate. Think of the topics it comes up around. Jobs. Relationships. Marriage. Politics. War. Theology.

When was the last time you heard someone say, “The universe can’t make me grow a zit this morning – I’m the master of my own destiny!”?

Personally, I believe that both sides of the coin are true – I like having the cake and eating it. I believe in free will – I experience every day. I also believe that everything that has happened, will happen, and is happening is, in a way, pre-known or pre-destined. As humans, we move linearly through time. Constant forward progression. But imagine a being existing outside of time. This being would be able to observe all moments of time at once, without being confined to present, past, and future awareness.

At this point, the ideas of fate and destiny become a magician’s trick. The future exists in a solid state that is both unchangeable and unwritten. We have complete freedom to enact what we are destined to do.

I could try to keep describing this concept, but instead I’m going to say this – my understanding of fate and freedom was heavily shaped by Edwin A. Abbott’s Flatland. If you can find a copy, read this exceptionally short and exceptionally deep book.

I’m a fan of the show “Lost.”  Not a rabid fan – I don’t spend lots of time scouring the Internet looking for clues about the plot, tidbits about the actors’ and producers’ lives, and other trivia.  I don’t dig through sites like oceanic815.com or whatever other sites the producers’ put up just to tease the rabid fans.  But I do watch the show every week, and on a recent day off I rented the new video game “Lost: Via Domus.”  While I was playing the game, I realized something key about the “Lost” phenomenon.

I think that a large part of the appeal is that “Lost” has always raised more questions than it answers.  Off the top of my head, unanswered questions include

• What is the black smoke monster (and how does it work)?
• Who discovered the island?
• Where did the ‘native’ others (the group that Ben joined in his flashback) come from?
• What/who is the Hanso Foundation?
• Why do people heal quickly on the island?
• What makes The Numbers significant?
• What happens to everyone other than the ‘Oceanic 6′?

I could keep going, but I think you get my point.  Lots of unanswered questions.  In fact, that seems to be the main sticking point for people who don’t like the show.  It’s also the hook for a lot of people who love the show – they keep watching because they need to know the answers.

Personally, I hope when “Lost” ends after season six, the producers have the decency to leave us with a lot of unanswered questions.  If they wrap everything up, if they show us all the mirrors and wires behind the curtain, the magic would disappear.  In the 2006 movie “The Prestige,” Sarah says, “It’s quite simple, really, once you know how it’s done.”  When we know all the answers, when we know the secrets, somehow the wonder is gone that we experience when questions are left to the realm of the imagination.  In film, examples of this would include “Jaws,” “Seven,” most Sherlock Holmes or Agatha Christie stories, “The Usual Suspects,” “Inside Man,” and more recently “Cloverfield.”  A solved mystery is never as exciting as being left wondering.

I think this that these examples in storytelling are evidence of a greater truth about the human mind.  If we can fully understand – or have a significant partial understanding – something, than it is lessened in our eyes.  It is as though once we comprehend something, we presume ourselves greater than it.  On the other hand, a lack of understanding leads to fear and awe.

In the current generation of 20-somethings (myself included) I think that too much knowledge has led to a sense of jadedness, a lack of wonder at life.  Movie stunts and effects no longer wow us – we saw how they did everything in the DVD special features.  Profound storytelling – from writers, actors, musicians, etc. – loses it strength, because we know everything about the creator’s life.  Miracles? We assume there is a ’scientific’ explanation.  Anything we don’t understand right away we can look up in five minutes on the Internet.

This becomes dangerous when we apply it more significant questions in life.  Questions like

• Who is God?
• What characterizes a “good” life?
• Why am I here?
• What does my future hold?
• Will I succeed or fail?

Too often, I find myself thinking that I have the answers to these questions, or at least acting like I do.  At that point, life becomes a dull task, acting out motions that have been predetermined.

I think that recently God has been working in me to be more comfortable with unanswered questions; in fact, to embrace them.  I’ve been reminded countless times that God is incomprehensible – that if he weren’t, he would not be God.  I’ve been nudged into noticing that life is more exciting as an adventure when I don’t know what to expect than as a script where I know all the lines.  And the great thing is, discovering that I don’t have the answers, and that I don’t need to have the answers, has been a wonderful and liberating experience.   In fact, I have enjoyed stepping back from my “understanding” lots of time to enjoy a sense of wonder and new discovery.

I’d challenge you to try that today.  It doesn’t matter if it’s something big or small, look for the wonder of not having the answers.  You might try it with the miraculous growth plants in your yard, the wonder of electronic communication in the Internet, or anything else you come across.  One of my favorites is trying to appreciate driving a car, and everything amazing that goes into that common activity.

Then, if you find that you enjoy not knowing the answers in these exercises, try applying it to some of life’s bigger questions.  I hope you find that it’s a spiritually liberating and exciting experience like I did.