What appears is simply what appears—without purpose, plan, or control. Every thought of how things could have been is just the illusory self's attempt to rewrite what cannot be rewritten. There is no one deciding the shape of what appears. The unfolding of life is not the result of will, fate, or chance, but simply what spontaneously appears—complete, seamless, and unalterable. All ideas of better or worse, right or wrong, are merely conceptual overlays. What appears to happen is perfect as it is—with no possibility of being otherwise.