Dear Stephanie,

SO many thoughts on this! Your story is both beautiful and precious. I especially resonated with the crickets-don't-know-stars-don't-know-crickets moment. It's strange to be the interpreters of our miraculous existence, and that of others. As the human race evolves, we continue to reinterpret, over and over again, sometimes with improved clarity, but possibly more often with the cavalier ignorance that leads to destruction. Hard to understand why when you look at crickets and stars.

You also wrote: "Just as my life doesn't take away from that cup of microbes, neither does a star, long extinguished, take away from mine." That's exactly how I feel about love, my societally precarious right to marry my husband, and my drawer of useless pens. Everyone CAN love everyone! My marriage doesn't negate anyone else's! My having a pen (a clumsy metaphor for our our ability to write) doesn't mean no one else gets a turn to form some words!

Once again, thank you. I love reading you in the morning because it colors the day, and this rainy Tuesday has already become Indigo Profound.