Y’all, I need to let you in on something that hit me harder than a prison wake-up call at 5 AM— life is like Sudoku. Now, before you roll your eyes and think Phoenix has finally lost it behind these bars, hear me out. This revelation came to me courtesy of an old, wise “Hayo” (and when I say old, I mean OLD—bless his ancient soul ), and it’s about to change how you look at every single thing that happens in your life.
The Great Universal “Why Me?” Convention
In life, do you ever wonder and ask yourself, “Why do I feel a void like something should be here, or something should be happening right now, or even why is this happening/happened to me?”
Girl, let me tell you—that happens to me A LOT. I’m out here holding entire conferences with God, as if I’m the event coordinator for the Great Universal “Why Me?” Convention. I’m always asking Him, “Why does this happen? This doesn’t feel right; why didn’t you do something for me now?” I’m up there questioning the Almighty like I’m His life coach or something, probably driving Him crazy with my constant “But why though?” energy.
Then, later, I realized that there’s a time and a place for everything. Cue the choir singing because Phoenix finally got some wisdom! It’s like playing the game of Sudoku—and trust me, we’re about to dive deep into this metaphor because it’s about to blow your mind.
My Introduction to the World’s Most Frustrating Game
There are multiple blocks in life, and every box is going to be filled on its own time, and sometimes you are not in control of how or when it will be filled. The rules of Sudoku are straightforward but can be complicated—I know this because when I looked at it for the first time, I said, “Nope, who’s doing that?” and walked away like I had somewhere important to be. The audacity of that puzzle sitting there all smug with its empty boxes, thinking I was about to stress myself out over some numbers!
But then one day, an old, wise Hayo—and emphasis on the OLD —told me there’s an ART to every game. So I turned on my big boy gaming console (okay, it was actually just a puzzle book, but “gaming console” sounds way cooler) and learned the game of Sudoku.
And let me tell you, that older man was absolutely right. There IS an art to it, and once I figured it out, I couldn’t stop playing. Suddenly, I’m out here acting like the Sudoku queen of Cell Block C, helping other inmates figure out their puzzles during rec time. Who would’ve thought?
Sudoku 101: Life Edition
Okay, so enough about me and my newfound puzzle addiction—let’s get back to the life changing segment that’s about to revolutionize how you see your existence.
A Sudoku puzzle consists of nine boxes, and each box must contain a number from 1 to 9, with the numbers filling each row and column perfectly. However, no number can be duplicated within a box, within a row, or within a column. That’s how I see life now, and honey, this is about to get deep.
NO EVENT can be duplicated or be the same EVER. Every event is unique in some way. Whether it be the way it was said, the nature of the event, or the outcome, it will always have its own unique block to fill, just like a Sudoku puzzle.
Think about it—you might go through what feels like the same heartbreak twice, but it’s never actually the same. The first time your heart got broken, maybe you cried for days, ate ice cream, and wrote angry poetry. The second time? Perhaps you handled it with more grace, learned the lesson more quickly, or discovered a strength you didn’t know you had—same category of pain, completely different puzzle piece.
The Art of Divine Timing
Just like in Sudoku, you can’t just throw any number anywhere and expect it to work. You might think a five belongs in that corner spot, but if you put it there too early, it’ll mess up the entire puzzle. Sometimes you have to wait, look at the bigger picture, and trust that the correct number will reveal itself when you’re ready for it.
God operates on this same principle, y’all. He’s not withholding good things from us to be mean—He’s looking at the entire puzzle of our lives while we’re focused on just one empty box. We’re over here like, “God, I NEED this job right now!” and He’s up there like, “Child, if I give you that job now, it’s going to block you from the career I have planned for you in two years. Chill.”
It’s like being a passenger in a car and constantly asking, “Are we there yet?” when you can’t even see the map. The driver (God) knows exactly where He’s taking you, but you’re back there having a meltdown because you can’t control the route or the timing.
The Patience Game (AKA My Biggest Challenge)
Now, let me be honest with you—patience has never been my strong suit. I’m the type of person who puts something in the microwave and then stands there, staring at it, as if my intense gaze is going to make it heat up faster. So, when God started teaching me the life lesson of Sudoku, I was not having it initially.
I wanted my life puzzle solved YESTERDAY. I wanted all my boxes filled, all my questions answered, and all my problems resolved with the speed of Amazon Prime delivery. But that’s not how life works, and it’s definitely not how Sudoku works.
Sometimes you have to sit with an incomplete puzzle for a while. Sometimes you have to trust that even though you can’t see how all the pieces fit together right now, there’s a master plan at work. Sometimes the most important thing you can do is take a step back, breathe, and trust the process.
When Life Hands You Plot Twists
Here’s where the Sudoku metaphor gets really juicy—sometimes you think you’ve figured out where a number goes, you’re certain it’s correct, and then BAM! You realize you made an error twenty moves ago, and now you have to go back and fix it.
Life is EXACTLY like this. You think you have it all figured out, you’re convinced you’re on the right path, and then something happens that makes you realize you’ve been forcing pieces that don’t actually fit. Maybe that relationship you thought was “the one” falls apart. Maybe that job you were so excited about turns out to be a nightmare. Perhaps that move you were sure about leads you somewhere completely unexpected.
But here’s the beautiful thing—in Sudoku, those “mistakes” aren’t actually mistakes. They’re part of the learning process. They teach you to look more carefully, think more strategically, and trust the process more completely. Every wrong number you place teaches you something about where the correct number should go.
The Prison Perspective on Puzzle Pieces
Being incarcerated has given me a unique perspective on the concept of life as a Sudoku puzzle. When I first got here, I couldn’t see how this piece fit into my life puzzle AT ALL. This felt like someone had taken my beautiful, organized puzzle and thrown it on the floor, scattering pieces everywhere.
I was angry, confused, and convinced that this was proof that God had made a mistake with my life. How could being locked up possibly be part of any divine plan? How could being separated from my children, labeled as a criminal, and stripped of my freedom be anything other than a cosmic error?
But slowly—and I mean SLOWLY, because some lessons take their sweet time to sink in—I started to see how even this experience had its place in my puzzle. Prison became the place where I learned discipline, where I discovered my voice through writing, and where I found my purpose in helping other women find their strength.
The box that seemed to be filled with the wrong number turned out to be precisely where it needed to be to make the rest of the puzzle work. Wild, right?
The Community Puzzle
Here’s another layer to this metaphor that’s absolutely beautiful—we’re not just working on our own individual Sudoku puzzles. We’re all part of a massive, interconnected puzzle where our pieces affect each other’s games.
Think about the people in your life. Your story intersects with theirs in ways that create ripple effects you may never even be aware of. Your struggle with addiction may help someone else recognize their own problem. Your journey through heartbreak gives you the wisdom to help a
friend through theirs. Maybe your experience with loss teaches you compassion that changes how you show up for others.
In prison, I see this all the time. Women who’ve been through hell and back use their experiences to help newcomers navigate the system. Sisters who’ve lost everything are sharing what little they have with someone who has even less. Mothers separated from their children are finding ways to support and care for one another.
We’re all working on our individual puzzles, but we’re also contributing pieces to each other’s games without even realizing it.
The Beauty of Incomplete Puzzles
One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned is that some boxes in our life puzzles might stay empty for a while—and that’s okay. We live in a culture that demands completion, making us feel like we’re failing if we don’t have all the answers, all the pieces, and all the problems solved.
However, Sudoku teaches us that there’s a strategy to leaving certain boxes empty until more information becomes available. Sometimes the best move is no move. Sometimes waiting is the most active thing you can do.
Maybe you’re single and wondering when love will fill that box. Perhaps you’re struggling financially and wondering when abundance will show up. You may be dealing with health issues and wondering when healing will take its place in your puzzle.
Trust me, I get it. The waiting is hard. The uncertainty is uncomfortable. The empty boxes feel like accusations of incompleteness. But what if those empty spaces aren’t failures? What if they’re just spaces waiting for the right piece at the right time?
The Master Puzzle Solver
The old, wise Hayo, who taught me about Sudoku, had one more piece of wisdom that I carry with me every day. He said, “Phoenix, the beauty of Sudoku isn’t in finishing the puzzle quickly—it’s in trusting that every number has its place and every empty box has its purpose.”
Y’all, that hit different. It made me realize that God isn’t just randomly throwing events at us, hoping something sticks. He’s the ultimate puzzle solver, seeing connections and possibilities that we can’t even imagine.
When I look at my life now—the mistakes, the victories, the heartbreaks, the joys, the prison sentence, the discovery of my purpose—I can see how each piece played a role in creating the person I am today. Not all of it was pleasant, not all of it made sense at the time, but all of it was necessary.
Your Puzzle, Your Pace
So if you’re reading this and feeling frustrated because your life puzzle seems impossible to solve, take a breath. If you’re wondering why certain boxes are still empty while others seem to be filled with numbers you didn’t choose, remember the Sudoku principle.
Every number has its place. Every empty box has its purpose. Every seemingly wrong move teaches you something about the right one. You’re not behind, you’re not broken, and you’re definitely not playing the game wrong.
You’re exactly where you need to be in your puzzle, even if you can’t see the bigger picture yet. Trust the process, trust the timing, and trust that the Master Puzzle Solver sees what you cannot.
Your life is a beautiful, complex, unique Sudoku puzzle that no one else can solve but you—with a bit of divine guidance, of course. And honey, when all those pieces finally click into place, the satisfaction is going to be absolutely incredible.
Keep playing. Keep trusting. Keep believing that every piece of your story has its perfect place in the beautiful puzzle of your life.
Phoenix Rising continues to find profound lessons in unexpected places, proving that wisdom can come from anywhere—even from puzzle books and the words of old wise men who probably never imagined their simple game advice would become a life philosophy for a woman writing from behind bars.