TRYPTOPHAN DREAMS

I don't think I had fully engaged my thankfulness until the morning after the morning after. Spent a wonderful Thursday with a family of 25, where I tiptoed up to the edge of gluttony, stared into its gorgeous face and embraced it. Fully. Reprised my performance yesterday with another family remnant of six, where, in addition to performing the roll (that's right, I performed the roll, not role) of digestion machines, we baked crazy amounts of cookies and chocolate goodies for my nephew and his buddies serving in Qatar.

Yesterday, as my wife and daughters and I were together decorating the house for the holidays, listening to Christmas music by Sufjan Stevens, James Taylor, Sarah McLachlan, and the late, great Dan Fogelberg, I was reminded--as I am every year about now--how fortunate I am.

When I turn on the faucet I can get hot water, while many in the world can't even get clean water.

I may fear the turns my life may take professionally, aesthetically, emotionally...but I don't live in fear that someone is going to conk me on the head and drag me by the hair into the weeds.

I have more than one guitar, even though I can only play (sort of) one at a time.

I live in a 98-year-old house that is aging well and continually shaping me in its image.

I have three women in my life (only sleeping with one) who are exceedingly beautiful, intelligent, funny, and simply the best company a man could want.

I have friends from the Midwest, to Colorado, to DC, to NYC, to New England, to Florida, to Oregon, to Greece, to Singapore, to New Zealand, to China, and all divers places in between who are meditative, irreverent, crazy smart, and full of grace; who would actually acknowledge my presence in their world and would at least stumble a bit in their daily lives if I were to depart this skin suit.

I live in a country that is confused and in disarray, but where no tanks are rolling in the streets, and we are free to bang our rhetorical heads together as we try to figure things out. And where we are hopeful.

I am generally content with the things I have, and I don't feel the need to trample my fellow humans to death in pursuit of outrageously low holiday prices.

I know Love, when so many do not.

In the words of the profound prayer written by Anne Lamott, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."