"I show up. I listen. I try to laugh."

- Anna Quindlen, A Short Guide to a Happy Life

My aunt gave me a copy of that book when I graduated from college. I read it, really liked it, and kind of forgot it. (It was almost 10 years ago....) I wasn't even sure where my copy was (turns out, it's in my living room). My derby wife just gave me a copy for my birthday. She inscribed it: "To Graceless - Because you deserve to be happy and to thank you for the joy you have brought into my life!" Um, wow.

My friend Dani and I were talking about strength recently -- how neither of us perceives ourselves as being particularly strong, and yet that is an adjective people frequently use to describe us. We were talking about just doing what needs to be done -- basically, about showing up, listening, and trying to laugh.

But then I got to thinking about Angels in America. You have to figure there are people like Louis out in the world -- people who just walk out on those they supposedly love when the going gets rough, because they can't handle it -- or else how could a character like that be created or related to at all in a work that is so well-respected? Still, I don't get it. I just don't understand how that can happen.

In A Short Guide, Anna Quindlen writes, "Get a life in which you are not alone. Find people you love, and who love you. And remember that love is not leisure, it is work."

I hate Easter for a variety of reasons that any sane person would say are more than reason enough to hate a holiday (and thensome). A few days ago, as I realized that Easter was approaching, I started to have a bit of a meltdown. I sent an email to eight incredible people who I am lucky to have in my world. In less than 24 hours, I had received replies from all of them - replies that included lots of virtual hugs and promises of real hugs (my favorite thing in the world!) and buckets and buckets of love. My friend Emily offered to fly halfway across the country if I needed her. (Oddly, that's the second time in six months that a friend in the midwest has offered to fly halfway across the country if I needed her.) A couple of my friends said they were terrible at cheering people up, and then proceeded to do exactly that just by being supportive, being there.

I live alone (well, in terms of humans anyway) and I often spend time by myself. Most of my friends live an hour or more away. And yet, I think it's fair to say that I DO have a life in which I am not alone, because there are so many people that I love and who really do love me back.

One of my favorite parts in John Green's Paper Towns is when Margo Roth Spiegelman says, "I didn't need you, you idiot. I picked you. And you picked me back." Then she adds, "And that's like a promise." And it's true. I picked each and every person I have in my life -- intentionally, for good reason -- and I'm starting to realize that they picked me back. There's a bit of magic in that.

[Is feeling the magic in a moment on my list of things that bring me joy? (If it's not already, it will be as soon as I'm done posting this.) The list of joyous things is almost getting out of control -- and I love that. I love how it snowballs and gains momentum.]

Quindlen writes: "I learned to look at all the good in the world and try to give some of it back, because I believed in it completely and utterly."

And that's what working on love is all about. It's what The Beckoning of Lovely is all about. It's what Nerdfighteria and Matt Harding's bad dances around the world are all about. It's why I want to chase down joy. It's why I was so moved by this line on last night's episode of Bones: "I don't want to disappear without living the life that I want to live." Because THAT is the life I want to live.

It doesn't mean there aren't still times when I feel like there's an elephant dancing on my sternum (I've felt like that on and off for the better part of a week already, and imagine I will continue to feel that way -- at least on and off -- for the better part of the next week and a half) but in between dances, I remember magic and hope and goodness. I remember people who picked me back.