I’ve been on the road since Monday morning. I’m mixing business with pleasure. On Tuesday, I spoke at a journalism conference in Jefferson City, Missouri. I had a great time while I was there (except for the parking ticket I got, but that is being straightened out). I met several new writers and spent some time with old friends—including one I got to brainstorm with about a book he’s been struggling to finish writing for quite a while.
At one point in our conversation, an understanding about a new direction for his book hit both of us at the same time and it was one of those sacred moments that you know you’ll be able to remember ten years from now. Of course, you’d love to be able to bottle up a moment like that and tap into it at any time but if you were able to do that it wouldn’t be sacred. Or, at the very least, it wouldn’t feel sacred.
I’m learning something new about sacredness though. Most of my adult life, I thought that sacredness found a person when he or she least expected it. And sometimes that might be the case. But more times than not, it seems to appear from on high when I’m struggling and working my way through an issue. And I love that because it encourages me to keep struggling and searching for answers.
