Sometimes, the universe speaks in a whisper; other times, it moves with the sudden, jarring force of a closed door. I used to spend so much time fighting against delays, mistakes and detours because I viewed them as failures or disruptions to plans. But looking at the architecture of life, I have realised a profound truth: I am deeply grateful for the doors that slammed shut and the paths that redirected me. They weren't punishments but rather protections from places, people and things that were never meant for me.
I believe that life is operating on a timeline of guidance and protection that I often mistook in the moment.
Take the ultimate detour—the kind that rewires how you view existence forever. I had a planned trip to Bali, counting down the days, only for a travel agent to make a careless mistake and completely mess up my booking dates. In the moment, it felt like an absolute disaster. I was frustrated, disappointed and angry at the inconvenience. Then, the news broke. The horrific Bali bombings happened at the exact time I was supposed to be standing right there where it exploded. A stranger’s administrative error was the mistake that shielded my life.
But divine timing isn't reserved only for life-or-death escapes. It weaves itself into the quiet, mundane corners of my everyday routine, reminding me that I am never truly alone or unseen.
This evening, I decided to make biryani, only to realise that I was out of lentils. It was a small, irritating hiccup. I paused, wondering if I should abandon the meal and a few minutes later, there was a knock at my door. My neighbours, Alexandra and Ben were standing there, holding a package of goodies. When I opened the bag, I couldn't believe my eyes: inside were the lentils I needed, amongst other treats. The universe didn’t just provide a missing ingredient; it used a small craving to facilitate a moment of human connection.
I have also found that we often feel the most invisible when we are struggling, yet that tends to be when our steps are aligned with others.
During a gruelling, lonely season of job hunting, it was easy to spiral into isolation. Yet, while scrolling through listings last week, I saw a vacancy that perfectly matched a friend of mine. Instead of hoarding my energy in a state of scarcity, I sent it over because I felt they would find it interesting. Instantly, the heavy walls of isolation crumbled. My friend was appreciative and asked me to come over so we could job hunt together. In trying to lift someone else up, the universe broke my own solitude and turned a stressful endeavour into an opportunity for mutual support.
This invisible thread of timing also governs our generosity.
I lent money to a friend in need several times. They failed to repay me on time and I felt frustrated by the delay. Months passed, and when they finally returned the cash, it landed in my hands at the exact moment I faced an unexpected financial emergency of my own. If they had paid me back on time, the money would have been used and I would not have had it when I needed it. By delaying the repayment, it was as if they had become an accidental savings account. Helping that person ended up helping me more, proving that everything arrives at the perfect moment and paying it forward never hurts.
Perhaps the most bittersweet, profound synchronicities have occurred within my grief, acting as a thin bridge between this world and the next.
I lost my mother last year in September, just after her birthday, leaving behind a monumental ache. To carry her memory with me, I got a symbolic tattoo on my left ankle. This year, on Friday 7th August 2026—the very first birthday without her—the grief felt incredibly heavy, but I went out for lunch to honour the day. While walking to the restaurant, I suddenly tripped. It was an awkward fall, but strangely, the only part of my body that took any damage was my left ankle.
As the hours passed, the skin swelled up and looked as though the tattoo had been intentionally put on afterwards to frame the injury. As I walked away, I found myself limping—moving with the same gait my mum had before she passed away. In that painful, bizarre moment, I felt a physical, undeniable manifestation of remembrance. It was surreal and as though she were still limping right beside me.
Every detour is a rescue. Every delay is an alignment. When things do not go my way, I take a deep breath and trust the grand scheme of things. The universe is not working against us; it is actively conspiring to protect us, feed us, connect us and heal us. I have learned to trust the closed doors, to be grateful for the missed flights and to look for the magic in random acts of kindness. We are being guided, we are being watched over and we are exactly where we are supposed to be.
Believing that life is rigged in your favour is a powerful mindset shift and choosing to believe that every event, challenge or coincidence is working together to help you succeed, even if it doesn't feel like it in the moment. It is the practice of accepting and embracing every single twist, turn, mistake and delay in life as necessary and useful, rather than a mistake and trusting that misfortune can yield an incredibly positive outcome. Every single thing that has happened thus far has brought you to this exact moment, place and situation. As daunting as some incidents may be, sometimes it's the only way to arrive at the right destination due to blessings in disguise.
Blessings in Disguise by EJ for EJblogtv
an Enjoyment Journal about Everything EJ
xoxo