Small Epiphanies (are all the rage)

I was struck by some kind of small epiphany tonight/this morning (~2am). Here is the crux of it:

Life is what it is. "Control" is the idea that one must act as a god in their personal world; dictating outcomes and consequences based on one's wishes and notions of that which is preferred. But, in reality, what is, is what is.

I have a choice to make. And it is profound, and may set the course for my view of reality (and, consequently, my place in it).

So, I decided to do laundry at 2am. I wanted to have my white tie cleaned and shiney in case I need it for tomorrow, Halloween. I went to the washer, and having bought a new bottle of bleach yesterday, it had a plastic cover over the lid that needed to be pulled off before I could pour the substance into the wash. I've been drinking vodka, so I'm not thinking too clearly, and I rip the plastic off the lid. In the process I spill/splash some of it onto my new black sweatpants (I get careless when I've been drinking).

Now there is orange spots on my new sweatpants. Fuck, (I think to myself) These are new! Son of a bitch! Then it occurs to me: the sequence of events that led to the bleached splotches was unavoidable, destined even.

So the choice is clear: 1. consider this a problem to be remidied (with black die or something) or 2. accept the inevitable, and live with it (maybe even be glad that Fate has blessed me with a real Choice).

Considering myself somewhat "aware" I realize that the choice could very well effect the rest of my life. Do I choose to see Fate as something maleable and subject to my whims/decisions, or is it something determined, and deserving of acceptance and even reverance?

Tentitively, I choose to see it/Her as something beyond my "control", something to be dealt with, understood, and (gasp) loved. While taking a piss, I decide to not attempt to "correct" the mistake of dropping bleach onto my new sweatpants. Fuck it, you know? If Mother wants my new pants to display the scars of drunken laundry, who the hell am I to argue? I know this flies in the face of all that is American and Masculine, but you know what? I don't give a shit. This is the way it is, and I think I need to start dealing with the fact that I am not in control of the events that effect my life. I would much rather be a co-creator with Life/Mother Nature/God than an adversary vying for control.

I need to remember this. I need to accept. Even if everyone who ever reads this sees this as an insignificant event in an insignificant life, fuck 'em. It is important to me. And when it comes down to it, what the fuck else really matters?