When the Universe Hands You a Ticket (And You Actually Take the Flight)

Let me set the scene: I stumbled out of the train station in Asakusa long after dark, the neon glow of Tokyo’s streets swapped for the muted lanterns and shadowed temples of this quieter corner of the city. Jet-lagged and vaguely disoriented, I fumbled for my phone—partly to map my way to the ryokan, partly out of habit.  

And there it was: a message. Not from a friend, not a spammy promo, but an invitation. The kind that makes you blink twice. My contact from a company—one I’ll simply call “a major tech player in China”—reaching out.

Would I hop on a plane for a few days? They'd cover it. All they wanted was my perspective on a project.  

Let’s pause here. I’m not a person who gets cold-messaged for international consultancies. My inbox is usually a graveyard of newsletters, school and health-related emails and calendar reminders.

So yes, my first thought was: *Is this real?* Not in a paranoid “Nigerian prince” way, but in a “Wait, why me?” way. A flicker of imposter syndrome, perhaps. Or just the surrealness of modernity—how the universe can pluck your name from the digital ether and drop it into a plan.  

But after a few days of logistics chess—flights, visas, the eternal dance of time zones—a ticket landed in my inbox. Even then, I held my breath until the airline’s app confirmed it.

Now, I’m writing this from a plane en route to Hong Kong. The original plan involved a convoluted detour through another Chinese city—a marathon of layovers that sounded like a dare—but we pivoted. Simpler now: land, cross the border, board a train. Sometimes the universe rewards pragmatism.  

So here we are. Me, a person who still feels 17 like a kid playing adult, suddenly hurtling toward a conference room on the other side of the world. When did life start serving up these plot twists?  

But beyond the logistics and the slight absurdity, there’s something quieter here. An unexpected “yes” from the universe. A reminder that sometimes, people see value in your voice before you fully recognize it yourself. It’s not about ego; it’s about the strange, humbling beauty of being *asked*. Of realizing your niche expertise—the stuff that feels obvious to you—is gold to someone else.  

Adventures like this aren’t just about the destination. They’re about the recalibration. The way a single email can remind you that your path isn’t linear, that curiosity and a willingness to say “okay, why not?” can reroute your entire year. One day you’re Googling ‘how to get to the CupNoodle Museum in Yokohama,’ and the next you’re plotting your passage across one of the most stringently scrutinized borders on the planet.

So here’s to the surprises. To the invitations that arrive when you’re half-lost in a foreign subway station. To the moments that nudge you to trust—not blindly, but bravely—that you’re capable of more than your self-doubt whispers.  

Because sometimes, the universe doesn’t just send a sign. It books you a flight and whispers, *Go see what happens next.*  

*Question for the comments: When has life surprised you with a “yes” you didn’t see coming?*