This past month was… complicated. I won’t go into details for confidentiality purposes, but let’s just say life threw more than one curveball. Again.
For the last few years, I’ve been dedicated to growth: observing, correcting, “improving,” and seeing patterns and cycles. This May 2025, I moved—YES, again—and I’ve probably moved 50+ times over the past few years. Coming to Cyprus, I found home and I was ready for stability—or so I thought.
Now that I’ve moved again, this time involuntarily, I’ve been questioning the lessons behind it. Why is this happening? I was choosing stability. I did “everything” right—so why did I have to move again? Why was stability running from me… or maybe, was I running from stability?
What was this constant movement trying to teach me?
Thinking about it only confirmed what I already knew deep down: there is always a reason for everything that happens—even when it doesn’t feel that way in the moment. This is happening for you, not to you.
I remember talking to God a few years back and asking:
“Dear God, help me be wiser than my ego. Don’t ever let me identify with any earthly possessions or anything material of this physical world that may come in the future. Guide me and protect me from worldly pleasures and temptations that would make me forget the deeper purpose of life—and its impermanence.”
I can see now that everything that happened—and happens—is part of my Dharma. Or as Nietzsche puts it:
“My formula for greatness in a human being is amor fati: that one wants nothing to be different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity. Not merely bear what is necessary, still less conceal it… but love it.”
Amor Fati. It makes you appreciate the lessons in challenging situations and grow from them instead of giving space to bitterness and resentment. And it is in this place of love that destiny can take place.
In parallel, I love people. People. And yes, even people who have hurt me. Not because I believe toxic or unhealthy relationships should be maintained—but because I love them as divine creations. Creations of God that come in different forms, different colors, with their own traumas, experiences, and unique characters. The imperfect-yet-perfect creation.
Now you might ask: why love people who’ve hurt you?
The reason is that I learned very early on that love is on the other side of fear. Since fear leads to hate, I made a choice to side with love. I chose to let go—with love—of every person and situation that harmed me, in one way or another. Not for them, but for me.
When you start seeing every experience of this earthly realm as part of your growth, as part of your path, as part of your Dharma—you don’t leave room for regrets, fears, or resentment. Let me give you an example.
When I moved to my new place here in the beautiful city of Limassol, I had a lot of situations that really tested my patience.
One of them being: the WiFi. And the network in general. It’s important to note that installing a fiber connection here can take a month or more. I tried every operator and had to depend only on my phone network, which often drove me crazy—to not say insane!
My first instinct was to ask: why is this happening? Is God punishing me?
But remembering what I’ve learned, I quickly started changing my reaction. There’s one sentence that has stuck with me since I first read it and that always helps me during these moments:
“We can’t control what happens to us, but we can control how we react to it.”
– Epictetus, this grounded, liberated, and wise man from the ancient world.
Looking at my situation—which clearly pales in comparison to the challenges this man had to endure with resilience and strength—how could I react?
First, with acceptance. Acceptance of the situation is already very powerful. But also, recognizing what the situation brings me. It built my patience. It built my resilience. It forced me to be more creative while searching for a solution.
In my case, I decided to go to cafés to work—which not only got me out of the house more but also helped me meet interesting, like-minded people. At the same time, I chose to postpone what couldn’t be done until the situation improved. Through that, I also learned the wisdom of quiet, slow moments.
This idea of control is also echoed by modern thinkers like Viktor Frankl, who said:
“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”
Remembering this, I even started laughing when I discovered that my bike had been stolen later that month. I told my friend Sarah—who was surprised by my reaction—
“When life slaps you that many times, you become immune to it. You just laugh at these simple challenges.”
And that truly makes all the difference. Not letting my emotions eat me alive. Not letting my reactions be guided by my unconscious mind. But instead, staying open to experience—and to the wisdom hidden in life’s challenges.
Maybe the next time something goes wrong… life isn’t testing you. Maybe it’s quietly redirecting you to where you’re supposed to be.
Trusting it will bring some light to someone’s shadow,
Amale 💫💙
Special Note of Gratitude
I want to dedicate a moment of sincere gratitude to Ryan Holiday and the Daily Stoic team.
His teachings on Stoicism – through his books, reflections, and presence – have deeply impacted my life.
In moments of confusion and darkness, his words were a lighthouse, grounding me in timeless wisdom and reminding me of what truly matters.
He doesn’t just write about Stoicism – he embodies it.
Through his work, he sets an example of strength, humility, clarity, and purpose.
Thank you, Ryan, for being a mentor through your words. Your work has helped me walk with more courage, patience, and peace.

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