I write because I need to. Topics come to me, suddenly, and I need to immediately sit and write. It’s like a purge. No, it’s actually more like the sudden realization you MUST pee but you’re not moving on the Jersey Turnpike the day before Thanksgiving, and the next rest stop is 15 miles away. The sudden urge hits you, and you have no other choice but to release. The process of writing for me is just like that, only slightly more graceful. And not as messy.

I share this to say I write because it calls to me. I don’t write for money or for fame or for accolades. A lot of people have said I should write a book. I’m honored they think my writing is of such caliber. But see, I have never wanted to write a book. But as each day passes, I wonder a bit more if I should rethink that. I think maybe I should write a book. Maybe I could write a book. Friends encourage me. I told a friend recently that I toy with the idea, but I don’t want it enough to compile my essays. I don’t want to enough to find an agent. Yet. I said to my friend, “Today is not the day.”

Isn’t that how life works though? Isn’t that how humans behave though? We keep doing the same thing until we don’t. The cost/benefit ratio, the pros/cons list must tip over just enough to warrant action. Until then, status quo.

I’ve come to realize that’s how I live my life the best. I used to worry. A lot. About everything. And by that I mean I was the Queen of Ruminations. Until I started listening to my gut. I learned to sit in the unknown until I knew. I learned to breathe. I learned to trust that I would know. One day. But today was not the day. I learned to trust that life will unfold as it will, regardless of my ruminations. I learned to wait. To trust and breathe and wait. See, miracles do happen.

I remember reading an interview of a trapeze instructor about 10 years ago. Something about it called to me. I tore the article out and placed it on my desk. Every now and then I’d run across it, and think “Today is not the day.” One day, a few years ago, I picked it up. And I knew. Today was the day. I called and reserved a spot in class.

For a year and a half, La Chica and her drum teacher kept telling me I should start drum lessons since I’ve always wanted to play. I kept them at bay–too busy, I said. No, the time was not right. Until one day it was. I walked into her class one day, still as busy as ever, looked at her teacher, and said, “Today is the day.”

I was recently asked to come back and serve on a Board of Directors I was Vice President of a few years ago. Oh how I want to. But I told them, “Today is not the day.” One day it will be. And I’ll know.

A friend recently spent a great deal of time in uncertainty, very ambivalent about what she should do about a relationship. She wanted answers. I told her if she was still uncertain, then today is not the day to do anything. She will know when she knows, one way or another. Wait until then. Allow things to unfold. And sure enough, one day, she knew.

So I’ve come to realize this is how I live my life. By knowing and living “Today is not the day.” Until one day it is. I’ve come to realize that allowing the graceful unfolding of life is sacred for me. I’ve come to realize I still get in my own way at times, and that when I step out of my own way and listen to this inner voice that is actually more of a cosmic voice both outside of me and is me, that is when the magic of life happens.

In fact I’ve come to be grateful for trying times, difficult decisions, uncomfortable uncertainties. Because I know if I trust in knowing “Today is not the day,” that one day it will be. And there will have been growth and depth in that process of waiting and being. And there is so much magic at the end. And that trusting “Today is not the day” also means trusting that one day I will know Today is the day. That, to me, is faith. That the only thing I know for certain, is uncertainty. And that’s not a bad thing.

And one day, if I ever do publish a book, you can say you always knew I would.