10/06/2014 03:45 pm ET Updated Dec 06, 2017

Lights Go on Part XXIII: Step by Step

"I want it all now!"

How many times have I said this to myself?

Too many to count.

How often have I gotten what I wanted by saying this?

Almost never.

Thank goodness.

There is however, a phrase that has predictably followed those few occurrences in which this wish has been granted.

"Is that all there is?"

You've felt this, right?

I appreciate that at some point I realized that the pleasure of my passions lasts longer when I follow the good advice that my man Æsop shared with us twenty six hundred years ago through his Fable:


"Slow and steady wins the race."

(Probably not in the Kentucky Derby, but you get my gist.)

My passions have been vital to me since I can remember.

My top three?




People are the cake.

Story is the frosting.

Music provides the candles.

(Your results may vary)

Few of the enduring pleasures I have derived from these passions were granted to my senses because I asked.

They surfaced as I developed sufficient awareness to value the joy they bring.

Case in point.

At five I wasn't a fan of Wagner, in fact, I didn't know who he was, but I did love the principle melody of his overture to Rienzi.

It gave me goose bumps.

At the time I had no idea that this melody was from his opera, Rienzi, and although I may have been told this, I was not ready to hear that part.

The melody was enough.

Several years and many steps later, when I was at university, the entire overture began to give me goose bumps.

The overture had always been there.

I had simply heard what I was ready to absorb during that period of my development.

I love this feature of life.

Many incidents have thrilled me at first, but then I either moved on, outgrew them, or they become ordinary and slipped back into my unconscious.

Some experiences have remained thrilling throughout, losing none of their pleasure or urgency.

My top three?




When I first kissed Jeanie Martin,
walking her home from school in second grade,
I thought my heart would explode.

In love, this happens to me often.

Both in romantic love as well as my love for the arts.

I adore the arts because, like a beautiful romance,
becoming ordinary is not a possibility.

With each step I meet with expanded feelings, enjoyment, and understanding.

In that moment of newly discovered awareness,
I experience that exploding level.

And yet, I still revel within that same ecstatic sensation
every time I hear that melody from Rienze.

For me, love knows no time.

Would you agree that love and the arts are a bottomless well
of pleasure, passion and sensual discovery?

The nectar of the gods.

The word sublime just bubbled up.

I am grateful that my grasp of what I now experience
did not occur in the second grade.

I am thankful that my heart has doled out these breathtaking moments as my awareness was prepared to fully relish their boundless value.

Have I always enjoyed this journey?


There have been many periods in which dissatisfaction existed in greater measure than fulfillment.

(The 'I want it now' syndrome)

Then one day Fate rang my doorbell,
delivering a parcel of wisdom.

So glad I was home.

It came with instructions.

"Savoring is most often a choice made after realizing that not relishing your life delivers the opposite sensation than that which you crave."

And there was a bonus hidden within that parcel.

Worth the rummaging.

(I love it when I find a precious surprise among the wrappings)

This unexpected gift has provided me with the delightful state of being unaware of the steps I take each day.

These steps are no longer a chore for me because
I have quit counting.

I have ceased looking into the future and believing the lie that: Someday, when I get 'there', when I have 'that', when I have accomplished 'this', I shall be fulfilled.

I'm satisfied now.

Tomorrow, most likely more so.

Step by step.