Certainty rarely arrives on the first page. I started a new book yesterday. I was wafting in and around the wanting to continue, when the words tapped me on the shoulder once again and said, look, I know you’re struggling, but don’t give up on us yet, there’s a reason you’re here.

The tap came in the form of a Proust quote. As I had mentioned in an earlier post, I have never studied Marcel Proust, but I am currently seven months deep into a daily practice of creating something in the sketchbook bearing his quote, “À la recherche du temps perdu.” (In search of lost time.) For me it began as way, not to get back old time, but to make sure that time wasn’t lost in worry, or woe, and replace it with creation. Joy. And pretty quickly on, he was referenced in a book, and it kept me on the journey.

Maybe the first time was for me, but receiving it again, this nod, makes me think I was meant to pass it on. I wrote this years ago, “I admire the lost who keep looking, and I am amazed by those who keep looking for the lost.” I think when we find our way, or even when we’re just on a pretty good path, we have an obligation to help others. To be like the words were for me, a simple reminder, to tell you, I know you’re struggling, but don’t give up, there’s a reason you’re here.

To my dear friends in Minneapolis.