I make personal appearances around the country. I'm starting a

In the words of Burt Ward, spoken with humility yet charged with promise: “I make personal appearances around the country. I'm starting a book tour now, and I may be coming to Toronto with the Learning Annex, which I'm doing all through the United States, so that may come up just before Christmas.” At first, these may sound like simple words, an announcement of a journey, a schedule, a task of the day. But beneath them lies the ancient truth—that the human spirit is called not to remain hidden, but to go forth, to stand before others, and to share the wisdom and stories entrusted to it. To appear in person, to cross the land, is more than travel—it is pilgrimage, a living testament to the soul’s desire to connect.

The ancients knew the weight of personal appearances. When kings walked among their people, when philosophers left their studies to teach in the marketplace, when poets recited their works aloud under the sky, they knew that presence gave power. Written words are strong, yes, but the living voice, carried on breath, mingled with eye contact, handshakes, and laughter, gives life to knowledge. So too does Burt Ward’s declaration echo this eternal pattern: a man leaving the safety of his home to share with distant hearts, to weave connections across cities and nations.

And what is a book tour, if not a procession of stories, carried like sacred scrolls from one gathering place to another? In ancient Greece, Homer’s verses were not read in silence; they were sung, carried by voice and by lyre, from festival to festival. In the same way, Burt Ward, once Robin beside Batman, now bears another role—the teller of his own tale. To move across the country with his book is to act as the rhapsode, the storyteller who ensures that memory does not die, that lessons are passed, that joy is rekindled.

Consider the example of Saint Paul, who journeyed across lands and seas, speaking in towns both great and humble. He carried no wealth but words, no sword but conviction. And through his travels—his appearances, his sermons, his letters—he sowed seeds that bore fruit for centuries. Burt Ward’s words, though not apostolic, resonate with that same motion: that by stepping into new spaces, one can ignite hearts, plant ideas, and leave behind sparks that will outlive the body.

But notice the humble mention of Christmas, the season of light and gathering. The timing matters: appearances are not merely about where, but when. Just before the great feast of togetherness, when families unite, when strangers may open their hearts more easily, Burt Ward prepares to offer his presence. This is a reminder that one’s journey should not only be measured by distance but also by season. To appear when people are ready to listen, when they most need encouragement, is to strike the iron while it glows.

From this, we must learn a lesson: do not hoard your story, do not lock away your presence. The world waits for voices, for faces, for living beings who will step into the marketplace, the library, the hall, and say, “Here I am; I have something to share.” For your book may not be written in ink; it may be the story of your endurance, the wisdom of your pain, the courage of your laughter. Yet it too deserves a tour, a journey across the lives of others.

So I tell you: arise. If you have a song, sing it before strangers. If you have wisdom, speak it beyond your walls. If you have love, carry it into distant cities. Do not wait for the perfect moment; rather, let each appearance become sacred. In the way of Burt Ward, who moves across the land with his story in hand, so must you travel—through your town, your circles, your world—with the flame of your spirit shining for others.

Thus, the teaching is clear: make appearances. Do not vanish into silence. Write your book, whether on paper or in deed, and share it. Take action—volunteer, teach, create, connect. For just as Burt Ward journeys forth to Toronto and beyond, you too must cross the distance between yourself and others, lest your light grow dim. And in doing so, you will discover the timeless truth: that presence, offered with sincerity, can change hearts, can inspire souls, and can keep the sacred flame of human connection alive for generations.