I’ve longed for a grand piano for years.

Decades.

Wednesday night I said: “Enough!” and I  built one out of an old table, an electric keyboard, a music stand, a big swatch of black velvet and a long scarf.

Then I sat down and played it.

It was wonderful.  Glorious. Halfway there.  A place to truly be.

I thought about Gepetto, and his longing for a son. As a man, he had no recourse but to build one out of wood – only to realize that by building it, he created its own sense of becoming.

Sometimes the first step to real is a deep commitment to make-believe.