"Everything happens for a reason..."

... but does it though? I have a complicated relationship with this sentiment. It mostly feels like a thing that well- meaning people say when something beyond the scope of our control, goes awry.

A month ago, my boyfriend and I were supposed to step into new lives as Peace Corps volunteers in Zambia, Africa. My boyfriend broke his collar bone two weeks before departure, and the Peace Corps cancelled our two year trip with a two line email. We had broken our lease, sold our furniture, and quit our jobs. We attended bittersweet farewell parties and made peace with the prospect of extended isolation. Now what?

It was a surreal, bizarre experience. I lost sight of which way was up, and became disoriented in my old life. I ceased to recognize my place among people and places I knew well. By far, the most consistent tidbit of wisdom I received was, "everything happens for a reason". In the early days, it actually made me angry. I wasn't ready to even consider whether there was a grand purpose behind all of this. I didn't want to hear it, as it felt like a trite attempt to tint my experience with rose- colored glasses. As if I was supposed to smile and serenely seek out a message from the universe.

I still disagree with the idea that things happen for reasons. I am against saying it to people who are in negative, uncontrollable circumstances. For one, it is so overused as to be entirely meaningless: an awkward, knee jerk reaction to someone else's pain. As a society, we struggle to speak bluntly about hardship. We are fans of the platitude, the cliche, and the bandaid solution. Holding space for suffering is a powerful thing to do for our fellow human beings. In the days after the Peace Corps' decision, I felt most supported by the people who let me feel without expecting anything of my response. They let it be as bad as I confided, no more and no less.

Our universe is governed by entropy and chaos reigns supreme. Randomness is an inherit byproduct, and sometimes bad things just happen. And it fucking sucks when they do, and it's okay to accept it. I believe that we create the "reason" in our responses. We are resilient individuals who do what it takes to rise from the ashes. I'll never know what would have happened if we had gone to Zambia, but I do know what good things have come from being stateside still. And maybe it's because I was raised by a couple Grateful Deadhead hippies, but I believe that it is me who will make the meaning of my life.