Trying to type on my phone tonight...

My dear one, 

I'm attempting this letter on my phone since I no longer have internet service here at my apartment. I should be in bed already (power snatches at the gym at 6am tomorrow...), but I'm sipping a decaf chai which tastes better than ever because I'm drinking from my new mug from a friend who owns the most delightful pottery shop in Oxford, England. 

It's been a music-filled week here. This past Friday night I played in a community orchestra patriotic concert – the highlight of which was Dvorak 9. Saturday evening was spent with my "Symphony Season Ticket" friends; the seven of us enjoyed a dinner potluck meal together and attended the performance of some Russian favorites. And this afternoon I rehearsed with an organist friend in preparation for services at his church next Sunday, then hurried back to my own church for choir practice. The upcoming work week will feel calm in comparison!

I ran a hypothetical scenario through my mind recently and it prompted some interesting developments. In this scenario you came home one day with a thoughtful and practical gift that showed your gratitude for my daily work in the kitchen: a memory foam rug to put under my feet while I washed dishes at the sink. After using this mat for a while I came to the point where I decided it was in the way, hard to keep clean, or something like that – and I wanted to remove it but felt afraid of disappointing you. 

This imagined situation helped me understand why I'm often reticent to give others a specific gift: I don't want to be the one giving an albatross. Because I often project negative responses onto those around me when running through hypothetical situations, I can end up paralyzed in inaction. "If I give So-and-so the gift of such-and-such, she might hate it, so maybe I should give her a nice gift card instead... but what if she thinks a gift card to be too impersonal?" I certainly hope I will be able to speak your "love language." Maybe not fluently at first, but with you giving me a few lessons I'm sure I can catch on quickly! 

I hate to end this letter abruptly, but sleep calls. Perhaps I'll attempt more regular letters. You are in my prayers. 

Your Evenstar