The Puzzle Fits Backwards

(And Other Spiritual Glitches That Only Make Sense in Hindsight)

You don’t know you’re in the middle of a divine plot twist until you’re well past the emotional cliffhanger.

At the time, it just feels like life is being unnecessarily dramatic — pulling the rug, ghosting your dreams, flipping everything upside down. And honestly? It can feel like a cosmic WTF. Like, “Was this really necessary, Universe? Was the lesson so important you had to schedule it during a hormonal week, mid-rent crisis, with Mercury retrograde AND a broken kettle?”

But here’s the wild thing: almost always, the piece that didn’t fit back then becomes the one that locks the whole thing in place later. It just slides in with that satisfying click — and suddenly you’re staring at a picture that makes total sense… just not in the order you expected.

We don’t solve the puzzle forwards.

We live it forwards.

But we only understand it backwards.

I used to think my life was just a chaotic mix of bad timing and questionable decisions — a cosmic bingo card of heartbreaks, false starts, illnesses, wild awakenings, and strange encounters with strangers who felt more familiar than family.

But when I stopped trying to control the outcome and started to observe the unfolding, something shifted.

Looking back, I began to see the invisible stitching.

That one job that drained the life out of me? It taught me boundaries I now teach others.

That breakup that shattered me? It cracked me open so the real me could surface.

That spontaneous road trip that felt like nothing special? It brought me to a place I’d later return to… and everything changed there.

Even the people I lost — the ones I didn’t want to say goodbye to — became the ones whispering the loudest from behind the veil.

We talk about soul contracts and divine timing like they’re distant, mystical ideas. But I’ve come to believe they’re happening all the time — not just in the big “aha” moments, but in the weird delays, the changed plans, the things you didn’t get... and the ones you didn’t want but got anyway.

Like the traffic jam that made you late — maybe it wasn’t there to punish you, but to save you from something you didn’t see…

Or to line you up with a person you were meant to bump into that day.

Or to delay you just long enough so you’d overhear that one conversation in the coffee shop — the exact answer you’d been asking your guides for.

These aren’t inconveniences.

They’re divine redirections.

Spirit shuffling the pieces until the synchronicity can land at just the right moment.

Nothing is by accident.

And coincidences? Not real.

They’re just guidance in disguise.

Even the heavy stuff — the relationship that broke you, the job that drained you, the friendship or family disagreement that shattered something inside you — they all had their place.

Because without those pieces being removed, there wouldn’t have been space for what came after.

Every connection you made after the fallout only exists because of what fell away.

It’s the butterfly effect of soul alignment — you couldn’t have landed here without that storm, not with this timing anyway.

And if you don’t learn the lesson the first time?

Don’t worry — it’ll come back around. Same lesson, different costume.

That’s the beauty of hindsight. You start to see the cycle. You catch the pattern.

You piece the puzzle backwards… and suddenly, you can heal.

You rewrite the story. You shift the narrative.

That’s why those pieces exist —

Not to punish, but to polarize.

To show you contrast so that, eventually, you remember what fits.

And what doesn’t.

And here's the bit we often resist — the importance of gratitude.

Even when those puzzle pieces feel like they’re on fire, even when the person bringing the lesson makes your soul ache, they are still part of the divine design.

Sometimes those pieces show up wearing the face of betrayal, heartbreak, or conflict — and in the moment, they seem like villains in your story.

But later, when you step back, you realise they were carrying one of the most significant pieces of all.

Be grateful — even silently.

Because without them, your picture would be incomplete.

There’s a beautiful freedom in not needing it all to make sense yet.

You stop rushing the reveal. You stop forcing pieces where they don’t belong.

You start trusting that even the jagged ones — the ones that hurt to hold — are part of a greater wholeness.

And one day, often quietly, often when you’re not trying so hard…

You look back and smile at the timing.

You see the shape forming.

You feel the truth settle in your bones:

The puzzle fits.

It just fits backwards.