The movement of food in a frying pan may not contain supernatural powers, but the concept of the movement may. In a red hot, boiling skillet with the water jumping around somehow the water still manages to keep what liquid is left level with in the pan. It is, from where the saying was born. Every thing will pan out. When I was dealing with the realities of life and sulking in my own dismay my mother would always tell me that no matter what the problem was it would inevitably pan out and that things would return to normalcy. I was aware of what its yen-yang, balance of life background meant, but it took me years to understand it. It was my inpatients that invoked the saying more often then not.
For two years before my sixteenth birthday I worked day in and day out at back breaking landscaping jobs, mountainous fast food gigs, and even as an assistant to a woman who was as compitenant as a four year old with gum in her hair. The issue that spurred from this was that every time I came close to finding a car I could afford or affording a car I wanted I somehow acquired a debt. And after working for two years at jobs a drunken monkey could do I was royally pissed off. My mother noticed my deminer and asked me what the issue was. After a brief conversation she consoled me with her timeless saying and I dismissed it as the babblings of my eccentric mother. But with less than a week to my sixteenth birthday my father pulled in to our driveway with my Supra. Which had been purchased with my money and help from my parents. However with all the excitement of a new car and the prospects of driving well over the posted speed limit I made no hard correlation between my mother's advice and the new car.
Around three years later I found my self at a fork in the road of my life. While attending Texas A&M on a fifty-fifty achedimic and athletic scholarship I shattered my ankle. Needless to say I lost my athletic ride and needed to figure out how I would continue my college education.