A monstrous tidal wave curls over a turbulent sea. The wave’s tip is like a hand reaching forward. The water below is helpless against the unstoppable surge. Some call it fate.

Resistentia amor fati

“Not merely bear what is necessary, still less conceal it… but love it.”

Friedrich Nietzsche

What is your duty? 

Your purpose?

To sit in a cabin by the lake. Fish and write life away. 

Away from it all. Free to your own devices, without devices. 

That’s not how it works. The universe has its own design. A current too powerful to wade against.

You’re here to do more. 

See more.

Be more.

But there’s resistance. To discomfort, uncertainty, and life’s unfairness. To change. 

It’s a futile push back. The floodgate never closes.

Destiny beckons, “There’s more to be done.”

Fate echoes, “We’re not through with you yet.”

You reply.

There are three pencils, each with a broken tip.

9 thoughts on “Resistentia amor fati”

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