"what do you want?" asked my new friend as we crossed the windy street last night in new haven.
"i was thinking something light, maybe a salad and some grilled chicken," i replied. we had an hour to kill before the program started.
"not for dinner," she said. "in your life."
i looked around. the evening light was lilac, the city bustled all around us, winter's last bite was in the breeze. i was wearing pretty clothes, i had money in my purse for dinner. there were people who loved me waiting for me to come home. i had spent the afternoon walking baby jake up and down the drive, scouting out signs of spring. i heard from my agent - my 12th novel is with an editor i've worked with before, she's in pursuit of the spanish money. i couldn't think of anything, outside a book contract - i wanted. not anything i don't have already.
"i'll take 25 more years of what i have right now," i said. i think of these as "our town" moments, when i stop and take a look around and let myself just Be.
"there's nothing you want?" she asked.
"not a blessed thing," i answered.
for all that i've been blessed with, i am most acutely and profoundly Grateful.
and furthermore, the war will end. blessed be.