Bruce Springsteen - Nebraska

I was lying down on my trampoline super, super early this morning and this song came on my iPod just as the wind started blowing. My hair kind of tickled my face and I was quiet, just reliving some moments of my short, tiny life. For 4 1/2 minutes I peered into the sky with the lights from the neighbor's back porch reflecting off of my legs, and I felt this immense calm pass over me.

A lot over the past year has felt like doing an emotional sliding puzzle - three new problems for every one solved - but there was something sacred about inhabiting that space and hearing those sounds and feeling those feelings last night.

Some sort of deep honour in having made it to where I am right now and a marrow-level confidence that if I could stumble blind-folded into moments this full, I'm capable of so, so much on purpose.

That was huge to me. Not in a fireworks way, but in a wide, flat lake way.

It reminded me of something my friend said to me after an impromptu camping trip. "I think we all needed to be there, but not necessarily with each other."

It was an uncannily wise comment for a, then, 18 year old boy to make - articulating the notion of needing to be exactly where you are for the express purpose of experience and appreciating your life's lack of punctuation. In becoming a connoisseur of those loose decimals, these mosaic tiles where we were hoping full, beating hears would be someday.

"I guess there's just a meanness in this world," indeed Bruce.