About the contract… I think that in those realms where the decision about life’s conditions is made, the concept of a “contract” is inappropriate. But the idea that we make a choice — along with all the life circumstances — I also believe in that.
In my view, though, the point is not to “fulfill” something. It’s more like the game “paratroopers, Cossacks, and robbers”: they are dropped into unknown conditions, and they must find their way out and discover happiness.
Many of us keep wandering through these dense forests, thinking that wandering is the essence itself — and we curse the day we “took the wheel of this vacuum cleaner.” Yet in truth, each of us has the opportunity to leave this labyrinth.
The most beautiful part — something we don’t realize at first, but which belongs to all of us — is that the world is not “two-dimensional” the way it seems. And that the real task is not to make it through the thicket with the least losses. The real task is to realize that the thicket doesn’t even exist — and that each of us holds a magic wand with which we can create anything we wish, starting with possibilities.
It’s precisely when a person creates opportunities — or anything else within their power to create — that they experience the feeling of fulfilling their destiny.
Because we are not here serving out some term in a forest.
We came here to build this world.
This is what those remarkable people before us were doing, the ones who realized they possessed the magic wand of Creation. Thanks to them, everything that exists on this planet was built. We know them as remarkable, yet they were the same as us — they simply realized it, and we haven’t yet.
If we all come to realize it — we will all be remarkable.
The 20th century (and the end of the 19th) was the age of those who did realize it. That’s why progress accelerated so rapidly.
Electricity existed even back in the time of Julius Caesar.
So did radio and television.
But no one had realized it yet.
And here I sit, twirling a pine branch, peering at a small patch of blue sky through thick branches somewhere high above.
I have this remarkable ability to lose my magic wand behind the distorted mirror of my self-perception.
One glance at it, and I get so weighed down that I completely forget what I had realized and how much I had already created in this world.
I want to break — or at least lose — that mirror once and for all, so that I never lose my magic again.