This morning I stumbled into my office with a cup of tea and did what we often do: I checked my email. I normally do this reluctantly, more by force of habit than any real desire to see what marketing and BREAKING NEWS! doom they contain, but this morning I was met with a pleasant and welcome surprise—a kind note from a reader regarding a post I made several years ago on a different site. This email served as instant proof that writing still matters, and although it may sometimes feel that I’m just pumping radio signals into darkest space, that someone, somewhere, is out there listening. So, because this made me happy, I decided to publish the wonderful note I received—as well as the original piece—as it may encourage you, in something you are doing, to know that there remains, in spite of the radiation and background noise of outer space, a purpose for what we do. Because hope is never really lost, it is abandoned. Somebody, somewhere, is always manning a telescope of their own design, listening for the signals.
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