Things Will Happen When They’re Meant To

Lately, I’ve been reminding myself of a phrase that feels simple but profound: “Las cosas van a salir cuando tengan que salir.”

In English, it means, “Things will happen when they’re meant to happen.”

I’ve been holding on to it like a quiet mantra — especially on the days when my to-do list feels endless. Between work responsibilities, PhD deadlines, family matters, and personal goals that always seem to move to “next week,” it’s easy to feel like I’m constantly behind. Yet, this phrase reminds me to breathe, to trust that not everything has to happen right now, and that timing — real timing — has a rhythm of its own.

We live in a culture that celebrates control, planning, and productivity. I’m someone who loves structure and progress, but I’ve also learned that not everything can be forced. There’s a point where pushing harder doesn’t help — it only drains you. Some things need time to unfold, and others simply need you to be ready for them.

Philosophically, this idea isn’t new. The Stoics spoke about focusing on what’s within our control and letting go of what isn’t. Aristotle taught about balance — what he called the Golden Mean — the virtuous midpoint between excess and deficiency. It’s the art of doing not too much, not too little, but just enough. And the ancient Greeks also had two words for time: chronos and kairos.

Chronos is the time we measure — the quantitative kind. It’s the hours, days, and deadlines that structure our lives. It’s the calendar reminders, project plans, and submission dates. Chronos is linear, logical, and necessary — it keeps us moving and helps us make progress.

But kairos is different. Kairos is qualitative. It’s not about the clock — it’s about the moment. It’s the right, opportune, or meaningful time — the moment when something feels ready, when everything aligns. Kairos can’t be scheduled; it’s sensed. It’s when an idea suddenly clicks, when healing finally begins, when clarity appears after weeks of uncertainty.

I think a lot of our stress comes from trying to live only in chronos, while life often unfolds in kairos. We measure our progress by tasks completed, but we rarely give space for the kind of progress that can’t be tracked — emotional, intellectual, or spiritual growth.

This idea has shown up in my life in many ways. During my PhD, I’ve learned that insights don’t arrive on command; they come when I’m ready to understand them. In my personal life, especially after my dad passed away, I’ve realized that grief, healing, and even joy follow their own timeline. You can’t rush them. You can only stay open to them.

So I keep reminding myself: things will happen when they’re meant to happen. Not as an excuse to procrastinate, but as a reminder to trust the process — to do my part with integrity and let life take care of the rest.

Maybe the point isn’t to control time, but to live wisely within it — to work with chronos while staying open to kairos. Because the most meaningful things rarely arrive on schedule. They arrive when we’re finally ready for them.

The Digital Toolkit Powering My PhD Journey

Pursuing a PhD is an exciting intellectual adventure—but it’s also a juggling act of reading, writing, organizing, analyzing, and staying sane. Over time, I’ve discovered a set of tools and apps that support my research, writing, and well-being. In this post, I want to share what’s currently in my digital toolbox and how each tool helps me stay focused, productive, and balanced.


1. Writing and Note-Taking

Scrivener (currently testing my workflow with this app)

When I started the PhD program, I used Microsoft Word to write my thesis. But I quickly realized how difficult it was to navigate long documents and connect ideas effectively.

That’s why I’ve switched to Scrivener for now. Configuring the settings took some effort to ensure the formatting was right, but navigating and organizing my thesis has been much easier since switching. I love its flexibility and how it allows me to organize chapters, sections, and notes in one place.

Obsidian / Notion

This is where I take notes from readings, lectures, and meetings. The ability to link ideas and organize them visually has helped me create meaningful connections in my research.


2. Reference and Knowledge Management

Zotero

An essential tool for managing references, saving articles, and creating citations with ease. I use it to store academic papers and generate bibliographies without stress.

NotebookLM

This has become one of my favorite tools for working with long PDFs and documents. I can upload research articles or lecture notes and ask NotebookLM questions about the content. It’s like having an AI-powered research assistant that helps me analyze, summarize, and extract insights from dense material.

ChatGPT / Perplexity

These tools help me brainstorm, outline ideas, and explore new perspectives on my research topics. ChatGPT clarifies my thinking through guided questions and reflections, while Perplexity is great for quickly summarizing complex subjects or finding academic sources. They’ve both become essential for making progress when I feel stuck or want to explore something from a fresh angle.

Claude / Gamma

For creating presentations and visual storytelling, I’ve been using Claude to help me draft compelling slide content with clarity and structure. I’ll soon be trying Gamma as well, which promises a beautiful and intuitive design experience for modern presentations. These tools help me bring my ideas to life visually for class presentations.

Mapify

Mapify has been a powerful tool for organizing my thinking and planning across different dimensions of my PhD. I use it to create interactive maps that help me visually structure my ideas, understand topics from various courses, and track research themes across time. It’s particularly useful for strategic thinking.


3. Task and Project Management

Google Calendar / Outlook Calendar

My schedule lives here. I block focused work sessions, deadlines, meetings, and even breaks—because rest is also part of the process.


4. Reading and Summarizing

Recall

When I want to extract insights from lectures, interviews, or YouTube videos, I use Recall. It summarizes video content clearly and concisely, allowing me to focus on key points without spending hours rewatching.

Speechify

When I’m tired of staring at a screen or want to absorb readings while walking or doing chores, I turn to Speechify. It turns articles, PDFs, and even my own notes into audio, allowing me to continue learning on the go. It’s a game-changer for multitasking and reducing screen fatigue.

Notta

Notta is a transcription tool I’ve recently added to my workflow. I use it to transcribe classes. Its accuracy and multilingual support make it a great tool especially when I want a clean and editable transcript to reference or quote in my research.

5. Self-Care and Focus

Lifestack

It helps me design my day with intention by tracking habits, managing energy levels, and keeping me aligned with my priorities throughout the day.

Rize

I’ve also been using Rize, an intelligent time-tracking app that gives me detailed feedback on how I spend my time, helping me improve focus and reduce distractions throughout the day.


My PhD journey is supported not just by knowledge and discipline, but by tools that make the process smoother and more enjoyable. These apps help me create structure, reduce overwhelm, and focus on what matters most: learning and contributing something meaningful. If you’re on a similar path, I hope this list helps you discover something useful for your own workflow.

What I Learned in My Second Semester of the PhD (Beyond Theory and Methods)

I just finished my second semester of the PhD, and today I’m allowing myself to fully rest — and to fully celebrate.

These past weeks have been intense. Between final essays, presentations, and all the mental load that comes with academic life, I found myself running on pure determination at times. But here I am, on the other side of the storm, and it feels like a moment worth pausing for.

This semester wasn’t just about theories and research methods. It was about endurance. About carving out time to think while managing work, life, and everything in between. It was about showing up to class even when I was tired, and still finding myself moved by a line in a book, a discussion with classmates, or a quiet insight that came unexpectedly.

It was also a semester full of new skills and challenges — the kind I didn’t expect when I first signed up for this journey.

  • I learned about the publishing process, as the school is working on publishing a book that will include a chapter from each of our theses. Seeing our academic work take on a more public shape is both exciting and humbling.
  • I also learned how to conduct and edit a video interview, which was part of an assignment that pushed me to connect with someone else’s story in a deeper way.
  • And I recorded my first podcast episodes, learning the basics of scripting, recording, and sharing ideas through audio. I never thought I’d enjoy podcasting so much — but I did.

More than anything, this semester reminded me that growth often happens in silence — in the late-night reading sessions, the late classes on Mondays and Saturday mornings when I had to talk myself into staying focused, and the afternoons I spent editing the same paragraph over and over. It taught me that I’m more resilient than I thought, and that my desire to learn is stronger than any obstacle in my schedule.

There were also small victories that I hold close: the moment an assignment came together, a thoughtful comment from a professor, or the realization that a concept I struggled with last semester now feels like second nature. Those moments remind me that this journey is working — little by little, it’s shaping the way I see the world and the way I see myself.

Next semester, I want to carry this learning with more gentleness. I want to keep being disciplined, yes, but also kinder to myself in the process. I’ve come to understand that rest is not a reward — it’s part of the work.

Today, I’m simply resting. But beneath the calm, there’s a quiet sense of pride. Because this wasn’t easy — and I did it anyway.

The Lessons I Didn’t Expect from Starting a PhD (That Has Nothing to Do with My Research)

When I started my PhD in Human Development, I thought the most challenging part would be the research itself—designing a study, collecting data, analyzing it, and writing up the results. And while that part is no walk in the park, what’s surprised me the most are the unexpected life lessons that come with the process.

I started my PhD studies 7 months ago—it wasn’t in my 2024 plans. I decided last minute to join the program, and it was a five-minute decision. Someone I trust and admire very much recommended it. I sent a quick email asking for info—I knew nothing about the program. I attended one class to see if I liked it, and the next thing I know, I’m enrolled.

It is said that the people you surround yourself with have a big impact on your life. I now realize that I had been spending time with people who were doing a PhD or a postdoc. I didn’t fully notice how much of an influence that had on me, so when the time came, it was a surprisingly easy decision.

I guess you’re never really ready. And that’s okay. Starting before you feel ready teaches you to trust yourself and grow into the role.

Choosing a Research Topic

On the first day of class, I was asked, “So, what do you want your research to be about?”—and I had no clue. A PhD program wasn’t in my 2024 plans, and I only had a few days to decide. The best advice I was given came from one of my PhD professors: “Just make sure you choose something you like very, very much. Otherwise, you will lose interest or abandon the PhD program.” That made the decision easier. I knew I loved learning about habits.

The Art of Time and Energy Management

The next challenge was to find the time to attend classes, work on essays, read books and research papers, and write my thesis. More than scheduling—it’s learning to protect your energy, say no, and prioritize what truly matters. I had to make many changes to my schedule and the way my weeks flowed. Doing a PhD requires lots of focus and concentration, so I had to learn when I’m most productive and reserve that time for research and writing.

Doing a PhD is not just an academic journey. It’s an emotional, psychological, and even physical one. I’ve had to learn to manage my time in a way I never had to before. I’ve had to be kinder to myself on days when things felt overwhelming. And I’ve discovered a level of perseverance I didn’t know I had.

One of the biggest things I’ve learned is that progress is not always visible. There are days—weeks even—when you feel like nothing is moving. But in hindsight, you realize that the internal shifts, the tiny mindset changes, the ability to sit with discomfort, are all part of the process.

Another lesson: boundaries. When you’re juggling a PhD, work, and life, you have to get really good at saying no. And not just to others, but to your own desire to do everything perfectly. Perfectionism doesn’t survive in a PhD program. Flexibility does.

The Importance of Community and Vulnerability

Whether it’s classmates, professors, friends, or loved ones, having people who remind you that you’re not alone makes all the difference.

Doing a PhD has stretched me in every direction. But it’s also made me more grounded, more compassionate, more patient, and more in tune with my values. I didn’t expect that when I started. But I’m grateful for it.

One of the things I’ve enjoyed most is sharing experiences with my classmates. We are always contacting each other on chat groups or calling to clarify things we learned in class, or just to support one another when we feel lost.

We all come from different backgrounds, but we share a love for learning. If you could see our classes, you would see that sometimes we don’t agree with each other—and that’s part of the beauty. We have such different points of view, but we remain open to hearing one another and disagreeing with respect.

Learning to Speak Up

I must admit that the PhD has made me more extroverted. At the beginning, I didn’t want to talk much, and the professors encouraged me to speak more.

One of the things I’ve also found myself enjoying is sharing what I’m learning with everyone. People get curious when I tell them I’m researching habits, wellness, and happiness. I always say, “I’m just beginning my PhD,” but it leads to very interesting conversations.

If you’re on a similar path, or thinking about it, know this: it’s not just about the degree. It’s about who you become along the way. Looking back, I didn’t just sign up for a PhD—I signed up for growth in all its messy, beautiful forms.