My plate is full. My complains are nil.

I’ve got a lot to do during this upcoming winter vacation.

  • I’ve got two magazine columns to write.
  • I have a book proposal to finish.
  • I have a novel to get off the ground.
  • I need to rewrite large segments of a theatrical show for a well known comedian and performer.
  • I’m producing a show in Brooklyn for the Yale Alumni Association in February, so I need to cast and coach the storytellers who will be performing alongside me.
  • I have two brand new stories of my own that I need to prepare for upcoming shows.
  • I need to finish a podcast series on the making of Twenty-one Truths About Love.

It would be easy to look at this list and complain. I have an enormous amount of work ahead of me,. Add to this my desire to play with my kids, kiss Elysha, visit with friends, attend two Patriots games, see a couple movies, read a couple books, and host an open house on Christmas, and it’s hard to see where I’ll find the time to do it all.

It would be easy – maybe even reasonable – to complain about everything that I need to do over the course of a dozen days of vacation, but you’ll almost never hear me complain, for the same reason New England Patriots linebacker Donte Hightower doesn’t complain about all that he has to do.

Posted in his locker in Gillette Stadium is this message:

“I can’t cry about having a lot on my plate when my goal was to eat.”

Every time I even think about complaining about a book that needs to be finished or a column that needs to be written or a story that needs to be crafted and told, I remind myself of the time – not so long ago – when my dream was to someday publish a book or write a column or perform in front of audiences regularly.

Not so long ago, I could only dream of having this much creative work to accomplish. I try like hell to not forget this when the days feel long and the list seems endless.

And I have Elysha to remind me, too. In 2017, I was hard at work on three different books for three different publishers. Feeling overwhelmed, I found myself complaining to friends over dinner. As soon as we were back in the car, Elysha reminded me of how there was a time – not long ago – when I would’ve killed for a single book contract.

“Now you’re complaining about having three?”

It’s good to have someone to kick you in the ass when needed.

But this extends beyond my creative life, too.

There was a time when I wondered if I’d ever find a woman to love me. If I’d ever have a family.

There was a time when college seemed like an impossibility for me, and I wondered if my lifelong dream of becoming a school teacher would ever become a reality.

There was a time when I was homeless and awaiting trial for a crime I did not commit, when all I wanted was a roof over my ahead and liberty from the possibility of imprisonment.

Hightower is right. “I can’t cry about having a lot on my plate when my goal was to eat.”

When my kids are leaving their shoes in every room of the house and my students are treating each other (and me) poorly and the sink needs to be unclogged again, I remind myself that my family and my career and my home were all once little more than unlikely dreams for me.

How lucky I am to be where I am today.

How fortunate I am to have so much work on my plate.

How grateful I am to have such a full plate.