The teacher appears when the student is ready, they say.
But maybe it’s backwards.
Maybe the teacher was always there. The opportunity. The insight. The next move that would change everything.
You just weren’t looking.
Consider the radio wave. It’s broadcasting whether your receiver is on or not. Turn the dial, and suddenly—signal. The wave didn’t arrive. You did.
Or the GPS satellite. It’s transmitting your exact location right now. But if your device is off, if you’ve decided you already know the way, you’ll drive in circles wondering why the route isn’t revealing itself.
Think about the ripe apple. It doesn’t fall because you’re hungry. It falls because it’s time. But if you’re staring at your phone, you’ll never notice it’s there.
The lock and key. The lock existed before you searched your pocket. The key was there all along. But until you stop jiggling the wrong keys, trying to force doors that aren’t yours, you won’t feel the right one between your fingers.
The echo in the canyon. Shout, and it answers. Stay silent, convinced there’s nothing to hear, and the canyon keeps its secrets.
Perfect timing isn’t cosmic alignment.
It’s permission you give yourself to pay attention.
What are you closing yourself to?
