We like to think that we know what will happen next — or at least we have an inkling.

Most of the time, we’re not too far off. But the truth is that there’s nothing more uncertain than what will occur with the passing of time.

The future is little more than what we hope and work towards; it rarely wants to play with the same ball as we’ve been practicing.

That race we’re preparing to win might be a lesson in humility in disguise.

That mountain we’re scaling may be about to teach us how to fall.

The treasure we’re hoarding might only be there to teach us how to lose it all.

We can dream and hope, pray and labour, fret, wail, and shake. But we just don’t know what the words on the next page say until we turn it over.

And we never will.