Manifest Destiny Lite

All the Success, None of the Death Toll!

Once again, here I am ready to write something, and the topic that comes to mind is the new girlfriend. She’s a special model, with all the top-of-the-line sexy, snuggly, healthy, funny, sporty, smarty features you would expect in a high-end female, but none of the judgemental, conceited, neurotic artifacts found in some other premium women with poorer build quality.

Ed’s Note: The lesson here is not to try to be romantic after surfing automotive review web sites.

If you remember back to January, I made several New Year’s resolutions for 2007. What I didn’t mention was that I had another, secret resolution that I didn’t share publicly: to meet the woman who would be my partner.

Ed’s Note: Or for the less touchy-feely, “his future wife.”

What’s interesting is how all of these resolutions, both public and now not-so-secret, seem to intertwine in a way I never could have anticipated. I’m a big fan of The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo, which hammers home the idea that once you have committed to your own “personal legend,” the universe will conspire to make it happen. To make it manifest itself based solely on your decision to pursue it. This dovetails perfectly with what I believe about fate, but until January, I had understood it only superficially, and never given myself over to the simplicity and innocence of it, this idea of creating my own destiny by manifesting my desires.

Ed’s Note: I’m pretty sure this is a pitch for Scientology. Be on guard.

I don’t believe in coincidences. Nor do I encourage reading too much into the events that seem to have happened “for a reason.” But… well, you be the judge. Let me tell you how I met her.

I was at the Calgary Teachers’ convention post-session brouhaha, at Cowboys nightclub. It was packed so tightly that it took serious strength of body and will to move the 20 feet from my spot by the DJ booth to the bar. A group of female teachers had settled in beside me and my friends, and I was immediately struck by one of them: I couldn’t tell whether I recognized her, or just wished I recognized her.

For the next hour and a half I wracked my brain trying to determine if I knew her, and if so, from where. I was too intimidated to approach her without some legitimate connection. Finally, it dawned on me that we had met briefly in my final year of university, and even then I had been attracted to her.

Her group shifted so that she was standing directly beside me. I stepped in and put my hand on the small of her back. “Do you know how we know each other?” I asked. “No,” she said. But she smiled.

Once I explained the connection, she recognized me immediately. Turns out I had long hippy hair when she had first met me, and nobody who knew me like that would know me like this. We talked non-stop for an hour. Then I had to leave– I was the designated driver, and my friends had to meet some other folks at a bar down the street. She insisted I take her phone number. My friends and I left.

At the next bar, the people we were supposed to meet didn’t show. We stood outside with one guy whose wife was coming to pick him up. He told us to leave, but we insisted on hanging out. After he was safely shuttled off, we walked back past Cowboys– it was random, and the wrong direction, a thoughtlessly longer route to the C-train– but in the instant we passed the line up, she bounded out of the front door, into the night air with us. I smiled, and offered my arm. She took it with the familiarity of an old friend. It was early, so we drove my friend home and then went back to my place and talked for hours. We just talked, and then she went home. It feels like we’ve seen each other every day since then, but I’m sure that can’t be the case.

What does this have to do with fate? Manifesting destiny? Making my resolutions come true? Here’s my take:

If I hadn’t resolved to stop drinking for a year (resolution 1), I would have been too drunk to recognize her at the bar (potential secret resolution). If I hadn’t met her, I would never have been motivated enough to adjust my diet and exercise (resolution 3).

Ed’s Note: Which he has. Seriously. It’s kind of creepy.

However, if these other resolutions hadn’t come together with such ferocious precision, I might have had more time to write to this blog (resolution 2).

Oh well. Two out of three ain’t bad.

And boy, do I ever have something to write about.

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