We don’t have to worry about who we are going to be. There isn’t much choice in the matter. We are going to be human. And we are going to be this human. We needn’t be concerned over the direction of our lives: we are going where this body goes, wherever this mind takes it. And it really is that simple. There are no more decisions, nothing left over which to fret. Life without choice is a breeze. And though it may be a current of December, as life’s winds tend to bite and sting, it is a breeze nonetheless, and any breeze is preferable to the stale and sultry promise of eternal June. We are what we are in each moment, and though the moment may often test our mettle, there is no simpler or more sufferable path than the one we are fated to be on.