Whenever I start a new book, I think, 'This is the most

Hear the words of Gretchen Rubin, who reveals the ever-renewing flame of devotion: “Whenever I start a new book, I think, ‘This is the most interesting subject of all time. It’s sad, I’ll never enjoy writing another as much as this one.’ Every time, I’m convinced. And then I change my mind when I start the next book.” Within this confession lies not only the song of the writer but the secret rhythm of life itself—that passion renews, and each beginning feels like destiny, until a new dawn arrives to claim our hearts.

Her words speak to the intoxication of creation. When she enters the labor of a new work, it becomes her universe, her sun, her reason for breath. In that moment, nothing could be greater, nothing could rival its power. This is the spell of devotion, when a soul pours itself so fully into its task that the world outside pales in comparison. And yet, when the ink dries, a new passion takes its place, and the cycle repeats. Here lies the mystery: the heart is vast enough to give itself wholly again and again, without losing depth.

The ancients understood this truth in the pursuit of discovery. Aristotle, who studied every branch of knowledge, must have felt, with each inquiry, that he had touched upon the most noble of pursuits: ethics, politics, the soul, the stars. And yet he did not stop at one, nor declare that all was complete. Each subject became, for a time, the “most interesting,” until another wonder drew him onward. Like Rubin, he lived in the paradox of final devotion that is never final, of total absorption that gives way to new totality.

So too do we see this in the journeys of explorers. Christopher Columbus, setting sail westward, must have believed his voyage to be the greatest endeavor of his age. Yet when he returned, the thirst for discovery had not been quenched—it had only been renewed. Each journey became the greatest, until the next overtook it. Passion does not die when it is fulfilled; it transforms, seeking new soil in which to root itself. Gretchen Rubin’s words mirror this eternal cycle: the joy of “this one” always giving way to the joy of “the next.”

The sadness she names is not despair, but a tender illusion. It is the ache of believing the peak has been reached, that never again will the heart be so full. But in truth, this sadness is the herald of renewal, for it clears the ground for surprise, allowing the next passion to be embraced with equal intensity. It is a reminder that fulfillment need not be final—that joy can repeat itself in endless variations, each time as if it were the first.

From this, O seekers, we learn a powerful lesson: throw yourself fully into what is before you, as though it were the most wondrous task of all. Do not hold back, do not ration your love for fear that better things await. For when the next task comes, you will again find yourself renewed, ready to love again with the same depth. Life is not about finding one passion only, but about rediscovering passion in every new beginning.

Practical wisdom calls to us: when you take on new work, a project, or even a relationship, allow yourself to be convinced that it is the greatest of all. Do not let cynicism withhold your devotion. Then, when a new chapter opens, do not mourn the loss of the old, but embrace the new with the same fire. In this way, every moment becomes sacred, every endeavor becomes worthy, and life itself becomes an unbroken chain of meaningful beginnings.

Thus, the teaching of Gretchen Rubin is timeless: each new book, each new endeavor, carries the power to feel like the greatest of all. To live well is to give ourselves fully to what is before us, knowing that tomorrow, the heart will find reason to love again. So let us live not in hesitation, but in wholehearted passion, ready to begin anew as many times as life grants us.