Some books you seek out. Others seem to find you.
I have always been a reader. Over the years, I have gravitated toward literature that stretches my thinking: philosophy, economics, and biographies. I like works that linger, that make you question your assumptions, and that offer not just answers but better questions. I have read across centuries and cultures, from Adam Smith to modern behavioral economists, from biographies of statesmen to reflections from poets.
And yet, for all my reading, somehow, I managed to overlook the man widely regarded as the father of the essay. That is, until my mother-in-law, Karen, affectionately known in our family as Yaya, put him in my hands.
Yaya has an almost uncanny ability to pick out the perfect gift. Over the years, she has quietly observed my interests and surprised me with books that always seem to fit, as if she had reached onto my bookshelf-in-the-making and plucked out the very title I did not know I needed. Last year, she handed me a volume of Michel de Montaigne’s writings, a sixteenth-century French thinker whose collected reflections shaped what we now call the essay.
At first, I wondered how I had missed him. How could someone who practically invented the form I write in today have slipped past my radar? But the moment I opened the book – I realized the truth: Montaigne had not missed me. He simply arrived when I was finally ready for him.
His voice, though centuries old, felt startlingly alive. He wrote candidly about life, death, friendship, fear, and the contradictions that come with being human. He was not trying to impress or argue; he was simply thinking out loud and inviting the reader to join him. His words reminded me of the timeless truth that while history changes, human nature remains remarkably constant.
That experience led me to a deeper reflection. Growth does not happen on our schedule. It often arrives through moments of surprise, when the right teacher, idea, or book appears exactly when we need it. Sometimes those influences come through hard lessons. Other times, they come as gifts wrapped in paper and tied with a bow.
The gift of a book, after all, is never just paper and ink. It is a message. It says: I see you. I know you. I think this belongs to you. In Yaya’s case, her gift was more than thoughtful. It was prophetic. She handed me a writer whose work not only challenged me but also connected to my own journey of putting words into the world through this very column and my recent book, Fool for Thought.
The timing could not have been better.
Because writing, like reading, is an act of discovery. Every essay I publish here in Life Happens is, in some ways, my attempt to think out loud. I do not pretend to have all the answers. I write to sort through the questions, to make sense of experiences, and to reflect on what life has taught me so far. Montaigne reminded me that this practice has a long lineage. He, too, wrote not to preach but to explore. His courage to put his doubts and contradictions on the page gave permission for generations of writers to do the same.
And it leaves me with this thought for you: what book might be waiting to find you? Perhaps it is a title you have walked past a dozen times at the bookstore. Perhaps it is one that a friend has been nudging you to read. Or perhaps, like me, it will come as a gift from someone who knows you better than you know yourself.
However, it arrives, do not underestimate its power. Books do not just fill shelves; they fill us. They can redirect the course of our thinking, our values, even our lives. The right book at the right time can change everything.
As for me, I will keep Montaigne on my desk for a while. Not because I want to rush through his essays but because I want to sit with them. To wrestle with them. To let them echo against my own reflections. And every time I pick up that book, I remember that it did not just find me. It was delivered by someone who cared enough to place it in my hands.
Some books you seek out. But the ones that find you have a way of staying with you forever.
About the Author
David Vega is the author of Fool for Thought: Reflections on Life, Identity, and Open-Mindedness and CEO of Rockwall Capital Group, which owns The Rockwall Times. His weekly Life Happens column reflects on perseverance, leadership, and purpose, inspired by his own journey from humble beginnings to executive leadership. Active in the Rockwall community, David serves on several non-profit boards and enjoys giving back to the place he calls home with his wife and children. Learn more about his work at foolforthought.life
