I have spent the last couple of weeks in an almost constant email dialogue with a good friend, ranging in topic across the inane to the profound. One of the themes that has been how we (each) work out when we have met the right person, and the issues we have had in doing so. It's not easy, and the fire of that continuous baptism of renewal teaches some hard truths, about one's self and those around us. Her problems are different to mine, yet there is commonality in the core truths of knowing when something is right, and when it isn't.
How do you know? How do you know that the person sitting opposite you is the right one? That he or she will love you in the way that you deserve, and that they will willing receive your love? How can you judge or chart the course of the future from the imprecision of the now?
I don't know. I am a gut-instinct, heart on my sleeve person, and I trust myself to judge another rightly, and to trust that they will do the same. Sometimes the world rewards you, and sometimes it doesn't. I have friends who are prepared to make do. I have friends who search endlessly for perfection. I have friends caught in the whims of their own nature, and who do not know what to do. I know those who have given up, and others who cannot.
I have met someone, by chance and out from the blue, who is just... lovely. She is clever, passionate, fiery, caring, beautiful and funny as hell, with a smile that is something to behold. I know she existed before she came into my life (or I into hers), and yet somehow I did not. The sheer incongruity of the odds leading to this happenstance are mind-boggling. And yet this, somehow, is the norm. Complexity weaves a certain web, made so by hindsight and wishful thinking. Life is driven to its conclusions by fate and destiny. Kismet plays havoc with it's fickle ways and karma delivers uncertain rewards. We are amenable to an all too willing interpretation of the past, casting in stone everything that was mutable.
This is human nature; divining from the past the auguries of the present, and of the future, ever coloured by hope and despair and dreams. It protects us, and deludes us, and yet it is fundamental to how we exist and live. We are subject to the vagaries of a capricious universe; chance is all too real, and yet we ascribe our decisions with influence and imbue our actions with certitude. Whatever the nature of our beliefs, and the impact we believe we may have in the course of our lives, that such moments and incidents of serendipity occur is breath-taking in their sheer unlikeliness.