Hope with a Track Record

Woody Allen used to tell a story about a guy said he had a brother who thought he was a chicken.

"That’s terrible," says his friend. "Did you take him to a therapist?"


"Why not?"

"We need the eggs."

That story came to mind the other day as I pondered an aspect to "the flow" that I didn’t write about in my previous entry. To wit: when the flow doesn’t flow, when the synchronicity is no longer synchronized, and centrifugal force flings you up on a rocky shelf, high and dry.

It happened last week, not long after I wrote about the project I was doing about the Shepherd Center in Atlanta. Through a series of circumstances and coincidences, I’d interviewed passionate people, encountered powerful themes and discovered great stories, and it had all happened so easily that I couldn’t help but feel the project was blessed.

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