The messages come from myriad sources. I feel like I’m standing in a room, mouth agape, tears in my eyes, dumbfounded, speechless, watching one person after another walk into the room, stop in front of me, lay a beautifully wrapped gift at my feet, then smile or wink, perhaps touch my arm, before they turn to leave so the gift-bearer behind them can make his delivery. All those gifts: I’ve done nothing to earn them. I simply showed up and let myself be showered.
