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“I have always felt that choice is a rarity in life, that it lies in wait in the crevices of time, to surprise us when we seem to have the least room to maneuver. The grand architecture of our time on earth bears no choice at all, no trace of will, free or otherwise. We do not choose our mothers ,anymore they choose the children they bear. We do not choose the circumstances of our parents , the home and inheritance the unearned talents or the circumstances of our formative infant years when our brains congeal into a steady state and the neural pathways set us on the course of our lives.Most of our time we heed unwritten rules . They may be rules of our culture and conditioning, patterns imprinted on the firmament of our youth, or they may be rules knitted into our brains woven with DNA by our biological parents, but they are all still rules by which we live by which we are governed. That notion of choice as we move through the world , the free will that we will claim so proudly is only the reflection of the body’s foregone direction, an image in the distorting mirror of ego a trick of the light.” — Zia Haider Rahman

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I have always felt that choice is a rarity in life, that it lies in wait in the crevices of time, to surprise us when we seem to have the least room to maneuver. The grand architecture of our time on earth bears no choice at all, no trace of will, free or otherwise. We do not choose our mothers ,anymore they choose the children they bear. We do not choose the circumstances of our parents , the home and inheritance the unearned talents or the circumstances of our formative infant years when our brains congeal into a steady state and the neural pathways set us on the course of our lives.Most of our time we heed unwritten rules . They may be rules of our culture and conditioning, patterns imprinted on the firmament of our youth, or they may be rules knitted into our brains woven with DNA by our biological parents, but they are all still rules by which we live by which we are governed. That notion of choice as we move through the world , the free will that we will claim so proudly is only the reflection of the body’s foregone direction, an image in the distorting mirror of ego a trick of the light.
— Zia Haider Rahman