I wandered in the desert for a long time. I wondered where I had come from. What was my reason? Why was I here? Am I just biology? If I am, does anything I choose to do matter? Really matter? After all, if I am accidental, then things just are what they are, and will be what they’ll be.
And why would I want to change any of that? Especially if I am only a spark of biology without destiny or design.
Accidental. This is the desert I lived in for a long time, believing that there was no reason. This was a desert without hope, because everything was fleeting and meaningless. There was nothing I knew of that had meaning beyond dust, dirt and biology.
But there are desert flowers that exist. They birth and grow in a land with endless sun, wind and little water. And a flower like that can’t happen by accident. You have to concieve of it, design a flower that can live in a desert… because one is a paradox to the other.
Design. The formation of ideas. The design of what is necessary to ensure survival. Design implies intent. Intent denotes reason, reason proves purpose.
I am a designer. I see problems as opportunities and to see what could be, to make what can be. I am a designer of life and human experience. Of my experience, despite the variables and constraints of the spaces I design within.
So perhaps my life is not accidental after all, just a desert flower. I was built for dry, stormy places. I am making ways for new streams of water in the desert. I am searching for signs of life that look differently from how I expected.
Blooming. Searching. Alive with intention.