Interlude

Listen.

Though you're reading this with your eyes, listen. Hear these words with your heart, because it's very difficult and I'm only going to try to say them once and I'll probably get them wrong, but I need you to understand.

You want to think that your life is big and important. Of course you do. Everyone does. You want to think of the big important things, but you shouldn't and it's not. It's small and it's insignificant and I don't mean to belittle it at all, because it's the small and the insignificant that make the difference. It's not your overwhelming love or your tidal waves of passion or your all consuming grief. It's nothing to do with the depth of your soul. It's "I made casserole. Come and sit with us." It's a letter in the mail. It's five 0-clock on a Saturday when you know your friends are waiting for you. It's the small things-- the spaces in between. Remember this.

I'm only going to say it once.