Life is like the traces of a path we have walked ourselves. Until we take those steps, the path ahead remains unopened; it is always a dead end. Standing at the very front of that dead end, we encounter others by chance—sometimes walking together, sometimes being obstructed—as we forge our way forward.
Insofar as life is merely the track left behind on a path, it belongs to no one. It is not something to be owned, but simply the evidence of where one has passed. If we believe our life is entirely our own, we become driven by a desire to control everything. We try to dictate whom we meet, whose interference to prevent, or whom to exclude. Such total control is next to impossible.
