I didn’t fall in love with you. I walked into love with you, with my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way. I do believe in fate and destiny, but I also believe we are only fated to do the things that we’d choose anyway. And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.
You are fettered,“ said Scrooge, trembling. "Tell me why?”
“I wear the chain I forged in life,” replied the Ghost. “I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it.
Mysticism keeps men sane. As long as you have mystery you have health; when you destroy mystery you create morbidity.
The ordinary man has always been sane because the ordinary man has always been a mystic. He has permitted the twilight. He has always had one foot in earth and the other in fairyland. He has always left himself free to doubt his gods; but (unlike the agnostic of today) free also to believe in them. He has always cared more for truth than for consistency. If he saw two truths that seemed to contradict each other, he would take the two truths and the contradiction along with them. His spiritual sight is stereoscopic, like his physical sight: he sees two different pictures at once and yet sees all the better for that. Thus he has always believed that there was such a thing as fate, but such a thing as free will also.
G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy, (New York: Doubleday, 1990 (originally published 1908)
Every time you make a decision, you tear a hole in the fabric of spacetime and enter a new parallel dimension. Not making a decision causes the same to happen. You may have thought that doing this requires a shaman, hallucinogenic drugs, or a time machine (or all three), but actually it stems from free will, is so subtle you never notice it, and happens all the time.