Only in uncertainty.

If there is a unifying thing I’ve always wanted to say, I haven’t found it. As with most things, it sits on the tip of my spirit, waiting for expression.

Today I heard something like, to ask for certainty is to ask for something static.

If there is a reason I love transition, it’s the same reason I love routine. That is, I’m uncertain of what either reason is.

During a time of overwrought sadness, a dear friend told me to experience every moment of it. What’s next would come, but I only had one chance at this particular sadness.

So, then, with uncertainty.

The future is an endless series of now’s.

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