I suppose while I feel it's true there's no escape from the inevitable dying, while I can, I , and my many tiny wills, continue to go on, sometimes very clumsily down a weird path....othertimes gleefully toward newness or a more promising tomorrow. Or placidly.
Always trudging. Sometimes in conflict with others wills, and once in a great while in sweet harmony.
I usually, even at the best of times have a grain of me that feels quite alone. It used to bother me, as I felt it was a wedge of some kind...but have come to know it as the door of most useful and autonomous part of my own nature, both fragile and strong all in one simultaneous movement.
Something that keeps me upright, say when I have to escape a bad situation, circumstance or environment. It too is an inner fire that keeps me warm when the world is icy and somehow alien.
I guess what I really am trying to express, is no matter how the universe, or reality is set up, I feel and believe that if there is no escape, there at the very least is relief.
And then of course, I believe much more lies ahead of that.
Maybe my paradigm is more punctuated with hope, than of any concrete or absolute belief of will vs. destiny.