Yesterday at the bookstore, I stared at a familiar-looking book and hesitated: “Have I bought this already?”
I bought it anyway.
When I got home, I discovered the truth: The author has two books. I have now bought each of them twice. So I own four copies in total. And I haven’t read a single one.
Funny thing about the human mind — We only repeat what is unfinished. Anything completed, learned, or truly remembered gets blocked by your inner security guard:
“Stop. You’ve done this before.”
But this book? This book keeps slipping past the guard, popping back into my life like a stubborn ghost:
“Hey. You still haven’t read me.”
And suddenly I felt… maybe the book wants to be read. Maybe it’s tired of sitting quietly, watching other books get attention. Maybe its energy is tugging at my sleeve:
“Don’t leave me behind.”
Life works like this a lot. A person, a sentence, a scene, a repeated mistake, a recurring dream, a strange coincidence that refuses to leave.
You think it’s random. But it’s the universe tapping your shoulder.
Not with an explanation. Not with a lesson plan. Just with repetition.
Until the day you stop and say: “Fine. I’ll follow this thread. I’ll read the book. I’ll walk this path.”
That’s the universe’s gentleness. Never forceful, always patient.