Don’t get me wrong – I love a black and white checkered dance floor and a band covering Earth, Wind, and Fire as much as the next person. Maybe even more. I count down the minutes until it’s time to celebrate my friends’ big day – and I love love. I love celebrating love. But it’s also true that celebrating love is kind of a stealthy reminder that I don’t have it yet.

I don’t know where you are right now – if the room is flooded with natural light and a fresh breeze from an open window looking out over possibilities, or if your lightbulb has burned out, too. And even if it hasn’t, I can almost promise that it will. And when it does, I believe that the light will come back for you. Even in the things you can’t see the way out of. Put your hands out anyway.

On my therapist’s couch, I’ve learned to be present with my joy rather than count the seconds until it dwindles. I’ve learned that pain will keep coming, but that I am resilient enough to see it as an eventual teacher (and also that whining is allowed). I know that I have what it takes to navigate the good as much as I’ve become adept at trudging through the bad.

sometimes it is too hard for me that we cannot save the whole world by tomorrow.