Contemplations from a Train

There is something very cathartic about sitting on a train knowing that your destination is already pre-ordained, and you have no control over the journey there. There may be delays and detours, hold ups and unexpected stops, but barring a significant accident, sooner or later you will pull into the station at the other end.

Recently a lot of people have been telling me that everything happens for a reason, fate intervenes, or that fairies or angels are directing your life (an idea that I find somewhat disconcerting, as if at 6 foot 7 I cannot direct my life what chance do I have relying upon the Fairy Folk [unless it is a leprechaun who wishes to take me to his pot of gold!]). This morning however I wondered how much life really is like a railway journey.

I was raised in the Church of England and spent a number of years as a chorister at my church (between cub scouts and fencing/rugby and the beer that accompanied the more macho pastimes), and at University became a member of the Christian Union (this was again because of a girl I liked, but having done a large number of illegal substances, there was nothing like the high I got when I turned to Jesus). As the relationship soured, so did my faith, and I lost some good friends whilst in the Territorial Army. I started to question how could these friends, who were only in their early twenties be taken away so soon, and how did this match up with God's plans? (a question that I have still not answered!)

After leaving University I took up historical re-enactment, and met some very interesting people. One of my good friends at the time was married to a witch (no she was really a lovely person, but followed Wicca!) and he was an Odinist, believing in the old Norse gods. One evening we sat and talked about our beliefs, and he explained that the journey of life was already pre-ordained by the "norns" or spinners sitting at the foot of Yggdrasil who wove men's fates, and that you neglected them at your peril. At the time I maintained my scepticism, much preferring to hear about death in battle, with a sword in your hand, and being carried by valkyries to the feasting halls of Valhalla (the thought of feasting, drinking and fighting till the end times always seemed very appealing to me, although whether this is indicative of some deep seated psychological problem I'm not sure haha!)

I still don't know whether our lives are our own to walk, whether the fates, God, a higher purpose or some other greater being is directing our steps. After some of my mistakes I often question whether this is possible, or are we like children being allowed to make the mistakes and fall over before being picked up again by a caring parent?

Wow it's amazing where musing on a train will get you!