The Book I Never Returned to My Dad
In 2008, the ground gave way beneath my feet. The financial world came apart, and my life came apart with it. I was floundering — and my father, knowing that I was struggling to find my footing again, loaned me his copy of The Artist’s Way and said, "I think this will help. Please bring it back someday when you're done with it."
I moved my family to Austin, Texas to start over. I took a quiet part-time job in a documents warehouse, working alone. One ordinary morning I noticed the book sitting in a box at home, and on an impulse I’ve never fully understood, I grabbed it and took it with me.
I started doing the work — all of it. The pages every morning; the walks; the dates. And little by little, something came back.
Hope, first. Then creativity. About halfway through the program, I began writing my first novel.
That novel led me to meet a publisher, who eventually hired me as his marketing director. Together, we set out to build a large conference on creativity — which is how I found myself in Santa Fe, sitting across from Julia Cameron. After we met to discuss the details of the upcoming event, I handed her a copy of a book I’d written, Blessed Are the Weird. She read it, and over the years, she became a real friend. Since then, I have had the honor of facilitating and teaching alongside this living icon many times.
My father died before I could give his copy of The Artist's Way back, but every time I have the chance to guide someone else through this program, I feel like I’m keeping my promise.
