Snakes and Spiders

I had an interesting and poignant conversation this evening regarding the way we face the many challenges thrown in our path; they vary in intensity in a way that follows no pattern and yet the fractal resonance of interrelationship makes one wonder at the cause or even author of the pattern.
I don't believe there is an author - in spite of seemingly always being forced to join the socially just equivalent of book clubs. I have steadfastly refused to join in the rejoinder of "author! author!" since a tender age whilst discovering the fear and singularity of independence.
Back to the farm.
I was given a portrait of a not so young man who upon finishing breakfast, stepped outside in the bracing air, bent down to pick up the shovel accidentally left on the path, only to be scared witless by a leaping and similarly frightened snake seeking safety. When the palpitations slowed, he bent, once again to remove the shovel, only to see the spider sneaking under the rim of the blade.
Another layer of fear.
Tripping over his own laces, he finally made it to the letter box at the end of the overgrown path. Of course, there was no mail.
The next layer had not formed. Paleolithic hadn't invented sandstone yet.
What purpose his journey?
What reason for coping?
There is no pattern, no rhyme or reason to the difficulties and heartaches we are thrust on to the path with. I love fractals, but philosophically they are harder to understand than geology.
What is it that helps us ignore the spider, humour the snake and keep walking on the path to a possible answer or at least a flier spruiking the next adventure.
Ahh.. perhaps it is hope.
Hope that the right letter will be in the letter box so that we feel relieved that we didn't squish the spider or chop the head off the snake.
The air is crisp and invigorating after all.