On a recent morning commute, I was stuck behind a car that I coveted. It was only for a moment before traffic split off and I chugged ahead in my aging vehicle, but it was enough time for my brain to process this thought: “well, if I was meant to have a car like that…” If only it was meant to be. I caught myself, teetering on the precipice of that trap, and yanked myself back before slipping all the way over the edge.

If only it was meant to be.

The notion that anything in our lives was meant to be is a dangerous concept. People use it to soothe their despair, to give meaning to tragedy or otherwise cope in circumstances that they feel powerless over. But it is a notion that suggests that we should also give up, give in or otherwise simply accept that truly shitty things are meant for us, while other people are meant for luxury or power or even just a simple happiness of some sort that is uniquely theirs. It suggests that if we do not have that good stuff, we do not deserve it, but that whatever crap we are coated in is truly, divinely ours.

Was I meant to have the car I currently drive rather than the sparkly Pegasus that flew past me on the freeway this morning? More likely it is just that stuff happened in life and my road veered away from that dealership some time ago. But regardless of how innocent that first question is, whether it is about a car or a fancy dress or a new iPad, inevitably the next question will be more serious, more resigned. Was I meant to be with that person? Was I meant to lose that job? Was I meant to have this cancer?

Tragedy is not meant to happen to anyone.

When I was diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer, I never had the thought that it was something that was supposed to occur in my life. Although I took that diagnosis as a point of focus, a tool to assist in building a new version of my life, it is discouraging that people, anyone, could think that it is okay to assume this was somehow the right thing for me. Yes, I’m making the best use of this tool that I can. Yes, I think that some fabulous things have resulted from being diagnosed with cancer — I have a lot more direction in my creative work, for example, and a solid foundation for a book, as well as a passionate new drive to educate people about this huge umbrella of diseases. There are a lot of positive things in my life resulting from being granted an incurable and mostly unsurvivable disease that has the potential to kill me in a slow and miserable manner. So, yeah, as great an experience as this journey is, don’t console me by suggesting it was meant to be.

Because then I have to ask, seriously, what the fuck did I do to deserve that?

If it was meant to be, who meant it?

People who watch their children die, who suffer through devastating natural disasters or who are the victims of other people’s wars, are living through terrible events over which they may have had no control, no warning, no conceivable manner of contributing to the outcome of such defining events. To suggest these things were meant to happen is a great insult. Contrary to what Webster’s suggests, despair does not begin with a “d” — it begins with “why.” To question the reasons behind unreasonable events or outcomes is to invite self-doubt, self-blame, a host of “only if”s and ultimately too many “why me”s.

I deeply understand the rush to a spiritual embrace of any condition, tragedy or insurmountable obstacle. But relinquishing entirely to the will of any “higher power” has the side effect of increasing survivor guilt or victim blaming, whether intentional or not. It may be a way of saying, it’s not my fault, it’s not your fault, but… The “but” will linger, it will grow, it will become the moniker of Deserve. And all of the suggestions that one will grow from the experience or something good will come from it all are veiled ways of saying “I’ve got nothing to console you with,” and “there is nothing more to see here, move along.”

So let’s put an end to this nonsense now. It’s all a mistake. This was never supposed to happen. There is no order or reason to life-shattering events, disasters, personal tragedies or random fuckery. But these things do happen. They impact us. They change our lives and upset the balance each of us has crafted for ourselves.

And we have to deal with it.

And we have to move on.

But moving on with an honest understanding of the ugly deviation that has affected a person, the fact that sometimes there is no one at fault in the process, that chance can be a provider of misfortune or fortune but that luck and fate are not real, is sometimes essential for embracing a positive and happy approach to the future. We are supposed to grow strong through a trial by fire — this is a notion ingrained across cultures, designed to make us believe that adversity makes us stronger. The truth is more complex because adversity can beat us down, even destroy us, and we cannot always rise unbroken in the end. But we can continue with acceptance and try to find a new path for ourselves, understanding that all we can do is our best.

Doing our best is sometimes tricky.

Just finding what our best is may not be an easy task. Searching within ourselves is not a process everyone is accustomed to. Western society does not encourage excessive introspection outside of therapy sessions, and the shallow hype of the self-help industry has given the dime-store treatment to self-awareness by packaging it in digestible bubbles of “intention” that ultimately ring back around to the end results again of victim blaming and survivor guilt in varying shades of grey. Being our best selves is no mystery, there is no riddle to solve or mystical path to take. But it does require concentrated effort and persistence; moreover, it requires thoughtfulness.

We can decide what we want an outcome to be. We can work for that outcome. But we can never be guaranteed the result we desire — all we can do is put effort into achieving it. Effort does not always lead to success, any more than talent or skill, but exerting that effort and maximizing the use of talent and skill in the process will help us realize our best selves. It is work, no doubt. And it should be work. That is the whole point, really; working hard for something we believe in, being true to our vision and striving to make it happen, that is called “doing our best.”

By doing our best, we find purpose and meaning in our lives. Through purpose and meaning, we build happiness. And it starts by accepting that, no, things were not simply meant to happen — but they did happen, they did change things, and now it is time to continue living.

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