Waiting for the Word

May 11, 2026,

Greetings from the whaddyacallit,

I had an epiphany recently. I’ll admit I didn’t call it that in the moment.

I was working on a wood project, frowning at a little mistake I’d made, thinking about how I knew better, I just hadn’t thought… and I was looking for a word, but it was in hiding somewhere.

I could picture the thing, I was positive what it was, but for some reason I couldn’t think of the word. It didn’t matter, I knew the thing, but still it made me pause while I searched for the word, staring down at the ground. It’s right here…

But it never came to me. What came instead was this, um… you know, when you think of something extraordinary. A realization, but more than that, but with fewer syllables.

What came to me was this idea. Every time you can’t think of a word, someone else thinks of it instead. Like just now I was trying to come up with what I wanted to say, and somewhere in the world, for no reason, someone else thinks of ‘epiphany’.

Things come to us all the time, and we often don’t know what inspired the thought. Just scrubbing the eggs off the pan, and from out the suds comes an image. Croissant. And maybe a few blocks away someone is looking up at the ceiling, in the middle of telling his wife about that one pastry they got at that café, you know, where we had coffee and…

I was staying at a friend’s house a couple weeks ago and it was first thing in the morning, both of us a little groggy, and I must have started a sentence and didn’t finish it. He sort of gave me a look and then went on making coffee. It happens. But perhaps, somewhere in the world, someone is finishing a sentence, for no obvious reason says, “…parallel parking.”

I went upstairs to my bedroom yesterday and stood in front of my dresser. I had walked in fairly confident, but then I had no idea why I was there. And in that same moment, perhaps, someone else opened a closet and got out a sweatshirt. Pretty sure that happened.

What’s also possible is that the word I forgot eventually makes its way around again. Some people suggest thinking of something else, or trying to swallow your tongue, and somehow the word will come to you. But it’s also possible that at some point someone else is trying to find that same term and it will land on you instead.

While we are waiting, feeling the absence of a word, another word appears, or another thought, another image that leads to something new. The word we hoped for is still possible but until it arrives, we keep living and thinking.

You might have doubts about my epiphany. There may be scientific explanations for any of this, but I it also could be one of those little miracles that arrive every day.

I had in mind to call my friend, felt like it had been a little too long. Somehow the day dissolved and it never happened. What happened instead is someone else called their friend, probably feeling like it was impulse. But it wasn’t. The energy that began with me, drifted like pollen in the wind.

Perhaps the intention exists, maybe outside of my mind, even outside of my control sometimes. It’s interesting to me how intention can change us, how we commit to a thought or a feeling or an action, and it shapes the day. And that intention can rub off on people around us.

It’s also possible that the word I want, the choice I want, the action I want, is right there at the tip of my tongue, but I don’t reach it, and perhaps it settles in someone else. Silly? Maybe.

The word was ‘kerf’. It is one of my favorite words. It describes the space that the saw made. It is an absence of something that allows for other possibilities. When you cut a piece of wood it creates a place for joining, for bending, it changes shape, makes potential.

I stared at the ground for a long time while the word kerf was elsewhere. And then when it was my time, the word came, and I was delighted. What makes it even more wonderful is the idea, the epiphany, that it had brought someone else the same feeling on its way.

Hope this finds you waiting for the word,

David

This essay was written by the author and does not include Ai content.

Copyright © 2026 David Smith