In some ways, I have come to realize just how much I have controlled the course my life has taken. I have lived long enough now to be able to look back and see key decisions I made (sometimes without realising how key they would turn out to be) and what the consequences of those choices have been.

Ironically, however, most often I see that my choices were informed by too strong a belief in my own understanding of what those consequences would be. Most often, they were not what I imagined they would be, though I can see now that they followed perfectly, in other words they were not too swayed by chance.

I can also see that I underestimated how many unexpected tragedies and hurts life holds. Things that are entirely beyond my control. Things that I never anticipated but would nevertheless have an enormous impact on my psyche. Two relatively recent examples are the premature death of my father and the injury to my hip, both of which deeply and very negatively affected me and the things I think about on a daily basis.

I know now that life holds a few more of these up its sleeve. I do not mean to say that I have come to see life as a series of unfortunate events, but rather that I have come to respect how thoroughly the shape of one’s mind and life can be altered by outside forces. As much control as I have is as much control as I lack.