Someone said to me yesterday, “I wish I could go to sleep tonight and wake up on the 5th or 6th.” At first I was inclined to agree. I voted last week: wouldn’t it be nice to quietly bypass the anxiety, the unknowns, the what ifs? But the more I think about it, the more I know that’s not at all how I feel.

When I was a kid, we took a family vacation to Tennessee. We “mined for gems” - sifted through what I assume were pre-stocked buckets of sand and dirt, searching for what could be raw semi-precious stones. We found a ruby and three garnets, each no bigger than a matchstick head. It felt like we hit the jackpot.

All these years later, I am still sifting. My father-in-law is in the hospital. We can’t just get on a plane to be with him - we might as well just get on a spaceship. So I think of him. I open a little door in my heart and let love out. I imagine it crossing the Atlantic, urged on by enormous windmill arms, gathering speed.

There is a lot of shit in this world, but there are jewels, too: hidden, perhaps, or disguised as rocks. Still, they are there: small joys, moments of peace, bits of beauty. Some we create, determinedly, and others we chance upon. They are waiting for me, and they are waiting for you, too.

If you are struggling to find them, do not despair. You will need patience, and practice. Take a deep breath. Now turn off the bright screens and turn down the loud noises. Pay attention to the tiny, unassuming things. Turn them over, one by one. You may have to polish them a bit to see them shine. Whatever you do - keep searching. This is not a pre-stocked bucket, but that doesn’t mean there are no gems.

No matter what, I do not want to wish away hours, or days, or years of my life, short and fragile as it is. I do not want to close my eyes and wait until it’s over. I want to be wide awake for all of it, looking for diamonds in the debris.