Sometimes life comes for you. You are minding your own business. You are checking off boxes. Done. Done. Done. You have some semblance of balance going on. The large goal on the horizon is there, as it ever was, each day and you work towards it slowly, bit by bit. Life is neither good nor bad. There’s very little hyperbole. You do what you have to do.
Then one day life comes for you and says, in a slightly foreign accent, because all big changes have a certain character to them: “You aren’t going there. You’re going here.”
And suddenly you get it. All those nights you dreamt of what it would feel like to have your heart’s desire. What it would look like. Taste like. It’s come to you. Not as you planned. Not as you expected. Not in the shape or form or sound you thought it would. And then you see the genius of life–the unfolding of an origami design that you could never have imagined–this is the thing some people call fate. I don’t know that I have a word for it other then to call it life.
So. Life has come for me. And I’ve said yes.