A Confession.

My reticence to post in recent weeks - okay, months - can only be attributed to the fact that I find myself, well, speechless. Amid all the richness of life, my vocabulary has failed to do it justice.

I have been teetering precariously on the edge of contentedness for months now, and it seems that, as I embark on a full-time job, leaps and bounds closer to the independence I demand for myself, with a family whose health and fundamental happiness seem startlingly in tact, a circle of brilliant loyal friends, and a relationship that continues to redefine my standards for happiness on a daily basis, all amid the youth of summer in the most ridiculously phenomenal, inspirational 22 square-mile piece of the universe - I have blissfully fallen off the edge and into that terrifying, thrilling void of what happens next.

Needless to say, run-on sentences don't do it justice.

I turn to a Stoppard quote courtesy of a coworker who I admire immensely:

"Words are sacred. They deserve respect. If you get the right ones in the right order, you can nudge the world a little."

Jeez Tom, no pressure. But it has dawned on me that I need to pay tribute to my current circumstances in writing, to immortalize them so that I may turn to them in the future. As a reminder that this kind of happiness is always out there, lingering in the atmosphere, waiting for that moment when find ourselves ready to breathe it in. As a reminder that I've achieved it, regardless of whether it lasts a season or a year or until the day I die.

That's more than many people can claim in their entire time on this planet.

So here's to working for an organization that feels like a family - a family who has taken a leap of faith in me and given me the opportunity of a lifetime. Here's to a mother who I admire and respect so greatly it moves me to tears to tell her. Here's to a father who has a warmth and kindness in his soul that seems to transcend humanity. Here's to a brother who is so brilliant that I can't help but worry that the world will never give him the credit he deserves, but know he will land on his feet anyway. Here's to a future sister-in-law who is a woman of intelligence, grace, and humility and the perfect match for my brother. Here's to my best friend since childhood, a woman of unwavering loyalty and sense of humor, and an inspiration to any writer. Here's to the man I had thought only existed in my dreams, who loves me just the way I am and tells me in every way he can, at any moment he can, and who serves as a constant reminder that I can do anything, and that it's more worth doing when he's by my side. Here's to health. Here's to intelligence. Here's to happiness. The kind of happiness that makes you want to nudge the world a little.

I realize this is a somewhat self-indulgent proclamation of gratitude, particularly in a world of war, poverty, racism, environmental crisis. But I've devoted tears of joy and sighs and laughter and greeting cards and meals and skipped heartbeats and long runs and songs played on repeat to savoring this feeling. If I could paint a picture or compose a symphony of the caliber it deserves, believe me, I would. How could I call myself a writer and not attempt, however clumsily, to capture it?

The only certainty is the present moment. And in this living, breathing moment, consider me shouting from the proverbial mountaintops that a I am living in every sense I know how.

This commitment to life in the moment makes the idea of what's next a lot more promising.