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Musings about my own existence

A few weeks ago, I discovered that my parents wanted to adopt a girl before I was born. Something went wrong (mostly resistance from my father's parents) and they could not do it.

To this, my grandmother remarked, "If they had adopted that girl, you wouldn't have been born, probably".

It is feasible that if my parents had adopted a child, they wouldn't have had another child. (You see, I am an only and planned child). Do I thank my lucky stars that they faced resistance and therefore, as a consequence (and maybe a last resort?), I was born?

When I was conceived, there were about 300 million sperms that were racing to fertilize just one egg. Of those 300 million, the one that reached first resulted in my existence. If it was some other sperm, again, i would not have been born. Another person would've been born, but not me.

Again, do I feel lucky that the odds to my existence were 1 in 300 million, yet I won?

If you keep going back this way, you realise that the chances of human species (and therefore me) evolving were even slimmer. The chances of an Earth being created and it supporting organic life (and therefore humans) were even smaller.

However small they were, they occurred.

For some, this is proof that there exists a creator. How can pure probability and chance result in such complex and beautiful creatures and objects?

For me though, it represents the improbability of my own existence. Just to be alive, everyone of us have beaten unbelievable odds. It is the only time we are all going to live (reincarnation crap notwithstanding). Make it worthwhile.

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