Today is nothing special, and yet it hit me anew that the life I'm living is the one I always dreamed of. Not in every way: I'm not fully who, doing what, or where I want to be, but I'm going in the directions I want, and love every minute of the process, and can't imagine life without it.
I make just enough money doing things I enjoy on my terms with more than enough time to spare. I make my own schedule-- I sleep in when I want to, and I get up early most days because I want to. I spend countless hours with good friends, who are creating their own paradises and struggling out of their own hells. I'm part of more wonderful communities than I would have thought possible-- every one of them a home and a family. And I live in the Athens of the East Coast: the center of the developing world, as far as I'm concerned.
I have interesting problems to work on, personally, politically, and for the shear joy of the hunt. I can spend time with intricate exercises in silliness, and then switch to experimenting with the human social creature, and then join in a collective search for the unspoken questions of the day.
Yesterday I bought tickets to far-and-away, for the end of January, fully expecting that I'd be going there alone. Two hours later and unexpected meetings with friends later, I might still be going alone, or I might spend a week road-tripping across far-and-away with three good friends. In any case, I can't wait.
I'm in love with life, and pleased with what I'm becoming and what I'm giving. If there was one thing I could wish, it would be more ways to spread my joy around. I dance even when there's no music playing. I could die happy, right now.
If I seem down some day, remind me of this.