When I was young, I made prayers to the shooting star.

I had a hope in my heart that someday, somewhere, my wishes would be fulfilled, my prayers would reach the universe, and all my dreams would become true.

But somehow, amidst the chaos of the world, some prayers might fail to reach the universe, and they never came true. The universe never answered them, and I kept waiting to see them heard and answered.

But it never happened.

One day, I was shedding tears sitting alone in my meditation room, asking the universe the reasons why she never answered those prayers. I was asking her why she kept them as my unfulfilled wishes and kept me waiting to see them come true.

The universe did not answer me, and gradually, with the passing of time, I forgot about those prayers.

Then one day, I came across something that reminded me of them.

It reminded me that whenever I have tried to take the reins of my life in my hand, it slipped, and I ended up having nothing in my hand. But whenever I stopped being hard on myself and loosened the grip, in the lap of time, in the pulse of nothingness, thoughtlessness, and emptiness, I could feel a strong sense of belongingness; I could find the universe’s answers to my lost prayers.

And I realized why the universe kept those prayers unheard, unanswered.

For it was waiting to gift me some magic. For it was rescripting my story. For it was waiting to reveal its secrets to me.

For the universe has its own way of answering my prayers.

(This post is a part of Blogchatter Half Marathon)