I'm Gretchen Rubin and this is a little happier.

For my book about the five senses, I've been meaning to reread that brilliant work of

children's literature, The Phantom Told Booth, by Norton Jester, with its beautiful descriptions

of colors and sounds and its emphasis on the importance of paying attention to the world around us.

I was very saddened to hear of Norton Jester's recent death, so I finally pulled the novel off the

shelf. The story of Milo's adventures was even better than I remembered. There are so many funny

little aside, as when everyone sits down in Dictionopolis to eat their words, and Milo is offered a

synonym bun. Or when a character explains to Milo, I see through things. My father sees two things.

My mother looks after things. My brother sees beyond things. My uncle sees the other side of

every question, and my little sister Alice sees under things. And he adds, whatever she can't see

under, she overlooks. But my biggest thrill from the novel came a few months ago. Even before I reread it,

I had an insight, and I have to say I am exhilarated by my own insight. By way of background,

ever since I was a child, I've wondered about the book's title. It doesn't make sense. Sure,

there's a told booth, but in the stories, it's not a Phantom. It arrives as a mysterious gift that

Milo must assemble, and when it disappears, an encouraging letter explains that it's needed by

other children. It's magical, but it's quite real. Recently, I had my insight. I'm deeply interested

in aphorism's fables, paradoxes, teaching stories, epigrams, and co-ins. A co-in is a question

story or statement that can't be understood logically. Zen Buddhist monks meditate on co-ins as a way

to abandon dependence on reason in their pursuit of enlightenment. The most famous co-in is probably

two-hands clap, and there is a sound. What is the sound of one hand? So one afternoon, I was pondering

co-ins and flipping through my various books about Zen and different collections of co-ins. And yes,

this is the kind of thing I do all day as a writer. And as I consider them, I started reflecting on

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