NOT ANOTHER CHOSEN ONE
(The Prophecy by Ricardo Cuppini, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)
Discovering destiny was easier than I thought. And it needed discovering, because it never sat well with me. In fact, I had come to entirely reject the notion of destiny. How could I accept the idea of something external imposed on me, pre-determining the future course of my life?
This rejection comes partly from how destiny is glamourised in popular culture. Consider some of the most prominent heroes in contemporary epics of western culture: Neo, Harry Potter, Frodo Baggins, Luke Skywalker, Queen Elsa, Paul Atreides, Tris Prior and even Kung Fu Panda. (While I acknowledge the separate issue of lack of diversity represented in fiction, and interconnected social problems, it’s a philosophical query rather than this social issue that I explore here.)
These popular heroes have all been marked as unique by powers outside their control, whether by some preordained act, lineage, prophecy or combination of the above. At some point on their journey, a trusted advisor broke the news to them that they are The Chosen One. In other words, these heroes’ significance has been prophesied, their paths set by destiny. They simply need to walk that path. Challenges, choices and a healthy dose of self-doubt await them, sure, but all on the same life-affirming quest of tipping the scales of civilisation-wide, existence-threatening conflict.
Where is ‘The One Who Chose’?
This is what never sat well with me on a philosophical level, that the true path to life fulfilment must start with some wise sage revealing your destiny as The Chosen One. No cataclysmic act, inherited powers, divine heritage or mystic prophecy has contrived to make me different from everyone else, either in my calling or in my special powers to pursue it.
This irritates me. Not the fact that no-one has told me about my cosmic legacy as The Chosen One yet, or sent me a letter in green ink from Hogwarts – I’ve got over that. My frustration is based on a desire to see ordinary people, ‘non-chosen ones’ like me, represented as the protagonist overcoming the challenge of seeking meaning and purpose in life. Where is the ‘One’ who chooses rather than being chosen? A ‘One’ who is utterly pedestrian, and yet has a calling and chooses to follow that calling of their own volition, following the path through peril and hardship to the end of the line.
I hear you: ‘They’re just stories, let it go’. And I would. But they’re more than stories, they’re inspiration through fiction. On the one hand they tell us we can achieve our dreams if we believe in ourselves and apply persistent effort, but on the other hand they show us that such paths are actually reserved for those who have been pre-chosen. And if you’re name’s not on the list (of One), you’re not getting into the life journey towards purpose.
To be clear, I love these stories and am not criticising them, merely expressing my personal disappointment that they didn’t answer my questions on the meaning of life. I know that’s not necessarily their job, and it’s also a tall ask, but when the story teller invokes ‘destiny’ and shows us someone striving to fulfil their meaning in life, they naturally invite their audience to consider the big questions. I also don’t intend to summarise all stories regarding prophecy and Chosen Ones, nor to ignore all those great stories where the protagonist is not chosen by fate. I’m merely describing the cumulative effect on me (and possibly others) of the ubiquitous Chosen One. And their popularity is not without good reason.
But I’m not another Chosen One.
Robert McKee in his seminal Story explains why we love such tales. We go to the cinema – or TV or better yet a book – in search of a few hours where life has a clear, explainable purpose, where actions add up to clear, tangible outputs in the world, and where fulfilment of one’s life purpose is possible. We seek these things in fiction because we lack them in life. We all need to fill that void, if only for a cinematic moment. A Chosen One destined to prevail over evil, prevent total destruction of their civilisation and restore balance to the universe is as clear cut as life purpose gets.
However, although the escapism is great, the personally applicable life lessons are sparser that such stories would have us believe.
This is real life, and no one is singled out by the finger of destiny. So what do we do when we don’t know our life’s purpose and no-one has a scroll written in ancient tongues ready to tell us? On this crucial question, the modern epic remains silent.
I’m not another chosen one, certainly not The Chosen One, so does that mean I have no destiny, no purpose? Must a person’s life have prophecy to have meaning? So far in my life there has been no sage lurking in a mossy cave, waiting to tell me the truth about my life as written in some long-forgotten scripture or divined from the mystic depths of a crystal ball. Perhaps you share this distinct lack of cosmic guidance. Wouldn’t life be simple if someone could just tell us the specific, action-based meaning of our life as written in the stars?
But what if it never comes? What if we live our lives with no external authority defining for us some life-long, purpose-giving task that we must accomplish for the good of all and, most of all, ourselves? Are we destined (ahem) to eek out our lives with no-one ever telling us the great secret mission of our each individual existence? (I have come to accept this as a realistic possibility.)
BARREN PROPHECIES
As a reader or viewer, we allow the story’s protagonist to act as a role model for us, unwittingly teaching us about the values they need to embody to overcome the challenges they face. At the base level, while highly entertaining and often rich in lessons on moral virtues such as honesty, loyalty and courage, there’s nothing such destiny-driven stories can teach about an individual’s search for purpose without relying on a plot-friendly proxy purpose: destiny.
We see the epic protagonist set out to discover the boon that will bring peace and prosperity to their society and fulfilment to their lives. We close the book or step out of the cinema, full of hope, looking forward to applying this hope to our own life. But then we realise that the boon of life-fulfilling purpose fades away. The reason is simple: we are not a chosen one, not the product of a prophecy. Each of us is just a person, trying to find their way in the world, trying to hold on to the belief that life is inspiring and full of opportunities while also coming face to face with an opaque view of our own meaning in life.
I want an epic hero to be a nobody, just like me, to be struggling in their search for meaning, just like me. Ultimately, I want them to define it through some personal act of self-determination and then pursue it on the path to self-actualising fulfilment, just like I hope to. That’s what I look for because that is the path that I fundamentally believe is open to us all. I believe this is the story we all need.
But everyday self-discovery is rare in quest-based epics. The quest must be given, not found – at least, that was my take-home from years of consuming such stories. The hero’s life purpose is apparently pre-determined. And so I came to equate a lack of personally applicable meaning from stories about destiny with a lack of personally applicable meaning from the very concept of destiny.
Destiny became barren.
THE SHEPHERD BOY AND THE KING
But times change, as do people, and sometimes things we have seen before present themselves again to wiser eyes. Discovering destiny was closer within my grasp than I had let myself believe. A sudden rush of insight washed over me when re-reading Paolo Coelho’s classic The Alchemist – self-described as ‘A Fable About Following Your Dream’. Santiago, the boy shepherd, found himself in a town square contemplating trading his entire life in to follow his dream, when he was approached by a wise old king with a message to share about destiny that is subtly, significantly different.
“I’m the king of Salem,” the old man had said.
“Why would a king be talking with a shepherd?” the boy asked, awed and embarrassed.
“For several reasons. But let’s say that the most important is that you have succeeded in discovering your destiny.”
The boy didn’t know what a person’s “destiny” was.
“It’s what you have always wanted to accomplish. Everyone, when they are young, knows what their destiny is…
“…It’s your mission on earth.”
Paolo Coelho, The Alchemist
What follows in that scene is a treatise on destiny as beautiful as it is brief, yet that line said it all for me. What you have always wanted… you.
It changes everything.
This fresh take on an old concept pulled me back through past moments that formed my once rigid notion of destiny. It removed all power from external entities ordaining peoples’ destinies on some cosmic ledger of fate and put the power right back where it belongs, in the beholder’s hands. It gave back agency. You are the agent, you the sole protagonist and owner of your own destiny. It’s what you’ve always wanted to accomplish.
Note: In the older paperback edition I read, the one I was given as a child, Coelho used the word ‘destiny’. In a later edition that was changed to ‘Personal Legend’. Had I read this newer edition, the revelation above may have passed me by.
Also, the word ‘accomplish’ is not my favourite here. Life is an enduring activity rather than a point in time. (Tangent pending on telic living: seeing our strivings as ends in themselves rather than means towards something we seek to “accomplish”.) However, the key message here is self-determination.
Everybody is entitled to a destiny. Everybody is a Choosing One.
There’s no need to be The Chosen One to have such a destiny. Everybody is entitled to one. Destiny suddenly becomes relevant to all people. We can become Choosing Ones, destiny being the product of a choice we make ourselves, not one imposed upon us.
We Choose and set our life’s course for ourselves. Our personal, self-defined destiny shines a light on the path towards becoming that version of ourselves that we all know we have the potential to become. To shine this light, we simply need to discover it through introspection, drawing strength from the most important wisdom that can be expressed in just two words: Know thyself.
By deep introspection and deliberate experimentation, we can find out what serves us best as our own personal path to living our life purpose. (Tangential series pending on The Boon: A two-phase path to the meaning of life.)
So destiny exists within us, is for us to find, and for us to pursue. We truly are amazing, self-actualising protagonists in our own life story.
And yet, herein lies a dangerous foe, the greatest enemy to destiny: Fear.
To read about the relationship between fear and destiny in the next issue of Tangential, subscribe below. No spam, only random tangents exploring the meaning of life.
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