Guidance

Things that brought sadness,
Things I couldn’t understand,
Every encounter and farewell,
Moments of joy,
And what I thought were mere coincidences.

Each of these dots,
When viewed from afar,

Reveal themselves,
Interconnected, forming a perfect line.

That line is the trajectory of life.

Now, I realize—

It was my past self
Who labeled moments as good, bad, or coincidence.

Every dot,
Every experience,
Was necessary.

It was meant to be,
Perfectly timed.

All these dots coexist,
Interwoven,

Making it possible
For me to exist in this world,
As I am now.

Not a single one could be missing,
Not a single one is dispensable.

They are all part of me.

Ah,
From the very beginning,
I was always being guided.

Kota