A few weeks ago a friend of mine was having trouble in her life, and I sent her this note. Perhaps it still rings true, or maybe its words have lost their meaning. It seems that my question simply proves the point I’m making…

That’s the beauty of who we are… not understanding… Mystery. Perseverance. Character. Sometimes I wish it was all explained, “all worked out”… but, without the blemishes of parts, the whole isn’t as beautiful; that doesn’t make the hard parts any less difficult or cut any less deeply… but they give value to the things that are lovely.

Thanks, Adrien.