Chance, Choice, Conscience

I don’t know what this awkward feeling in me now. I just woke up wondering what surprises this day has prepared to me. And I prayed. I was relieved. But some part of my brain tells that I should not. Chances are playful, you know and I don’t know whether those chances are good or bad. Oh, but sorry, I should not called it chances. Should I call it a choice? That’s destiny, isn’t?

Some people believe in destiny – destiny to love, destiny to success, destiny to pass and fail, and other kinds of destiny. And they define destiny as a chance. Oh well, that’s the impression of some to the word itself. And this is also what the destiny gives to me. Chance.

Each passing day, I am thinking what chances awaits me. Those thoughts are, of course, positive but some are negative. What chances are there when I come to school? Maybe, my teacher asks me something and I do not answer it, and that’s the start of forever embarrassment. Maybe, I slip on the floor because of my shoes I wear for the day and this event is what I hate to happen to me. Never to slip. Or I earned the highest score to my exam and this is the start of higher expectations among my friends. I call these events as chances.

But, in a way, not all events happening to me every day are merely happening by chance. I do something to happen it and that’s not a chance. But really, that’s chance! I’m not always the boss of my own. There is something that overpowers me, sometimes. And that sometimes is happening very often that may lead to being always. However, I’m trying to convince myself that there exists no chance. Choice.

It is very difficult to make a choice especially if there are good options. It depends on you what to choose. God gives us brain to think and it is superior. But sometimes, we overlook choices that are really good for us or that are meant to us. We are thinking and choosing what are not just best for us but also what would make others to become happy. That is sometimes not happening. We are naturally selfish but norms and the environment around us teach and dictate us not to be. We need to sacrifice, at times. And sacrifice is not, absolutely, a chance. It’s a choice.

When we make a choice, there is something that tells us to choose it or to choose that. There is a dictator. It reminds us that we have done something that we must and care to look back. It also makes us move and it creates a certain feeling we don’t understand. Maybe, that’s what resides in me when I woke up this morning. It’s not a feeling. Conscience.


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