The wheel in motion

Life is a series of cycles—moments of joy, pain, growth, and transformation that seem to flow endlessly, one into the other. The Wheel of Fortune reminds us of this rhythm, showing us that nothing is permanent: not our struggles, not our triumphs. It is both humbling and empowering to know that the wheel keeps turning, whether we resist it or not.

For me, the Wheel of Fortune represents a deep truth I’ve come to understand through my journey: that change is inevitable, and fighting it only leads to more pain. It has been a teacher, showing me how to find balance in the chaos and trust in the timing of my life, even when it feels uncertain.

the wheel's lesson in acceptance

The Wheel of Fortune doesn’t promise smooth sailing; it promises change. Sometimes, life spins in our favor, bringing moments of joy and clarity. Other times, it throws us into chaos, leaving us scrambling to find footing. For a long time, I fought the Wheel, believing that if I could just control everything—my emotions, relationships, circumstances—I could stop the inevitable turns.

But life doesn’t work that way. I’ve had moments when the wheel seemed stuck at its lowest point, like after my ex-fiancé left and I felt adrift in grief and confusion. I remember thinking, If I could just go back... But the Wheel doesn’t turn backward; it moves forward, and its lesson is to teach us to move with it.

trusting the timing

The hardest part of the Wheel is surrendering to its timing. There’s no rushing the upswing when you’re in a downswing. After my relationship ended, I felt an urgent need to rebuild myself, to fix everything immediately. But the Wheel doesn’t respond to urgency—it responds to alignment.

Over time, I began to see that the Wheel wasn’t punishing me; it was giving me the space to grow. Each turn brought me closer to myself, teaching me to trust that even the most difficult moments are temporary. The Wheel reminded me that timing isn’t about control; it’s about trust—trusting that when one door closes, another will eventually open, even if you can’t see it yet.

finding balance in the choas

The Wheel of Fortune is also a reminder to find balance, even when life feels unpredictable. When I look back, I see how often I let external circumstances dictate my internal state. A good day would make me feel invincible; a bad day would make me spiral into self-doubt.

The Wheel taught me that my power doesn’t come from controlling the turns—it comes from how I respond to them. I began to focus less on trying to stop the Wheel and more on finding my center, the calm point at the axis that remains steady no matter how fast life spins.

This practice of balance—of staying grounded even in uncertainty—has been life-changing. Whether I’m experiencing joy or heartbreak, I remind myself that the Wheel keeps turning, and my task is not to control it but to ride it with grace.

embracing the cycles

The Wheel of Fortune also symbolizes cycles, and one of its greatest lessons is the understanding that every ending is a beginning. When my relationship ended, it felt like the final chapter of a story I didn’t want to close. But endings are illusions; they’re simply transitions into something new.

I’ve come to embrace these cycles, not as punishments or rewards, but as opportunities to grow. The Wheel has turned in my favor many times since that moment of heartbreak. It has brought me new connections, new creative outlets, and a deeper understanding of who I am. And even when it turns again, as it inevitably will, I know it will lead me to another chapter of growth.

RIDING THE WHEEL

The Wheel of Fortune is a powerful reminder that life is in constant motion. It asks us to release our need for control and trust in the flow of change. For me, it has been a teacher of patience, balance, and acceptance, showing me that even in the most uncertain moments, the wheel is always turning toward something new.

Now, when I think of the Wheel, I don’t see it as a force to be feared but as a dance to be embraced. It has taught me that the highs and lows are not opposites—they’re partners, each necessary to the rhythm of life. And with each turn, I’ve learned to find not just peace, but joy, in the journey.