When do we ever listen to the radio? Unlike a podcast, the radio speaks on its own time— often from the dashboard of a taxi. I wonder if the driver hears that voice, or if it simply fills the air, soft as background breath. By chance, the cab carried a conversation about books. A voice said, “A good book is a gift,” a gift not wrapped or passed hand to hand, but one shaped together, by many, for many. And still, someone out there keeps making such gifts— that’s what we call inspiration. It’s what stirs me to move.