I've been blessed with two beautiful daughters. It is amazing how inadequate I can feel in being able to protect, teach, and take care of them. I'm not talking about a paranoid the-world-is-a-dangerous-place kind of way. I mean when they just give me a simple look or ask me something like "Where do stars comes from, Daddy?" I'm opened up in a way I had not thought possible.

Being a part of the crowd with incredible musicians onstage summoning the muse and delivering that to us - doesn't matter if it's an orchestra, two bluegrass banjo pickers, a solo singer, piano player, or Bruce Springsteen - when it all comes together, you can just feel as if you are a part of something bigger and grander than yourself.

Walking my dogs twice a day provides me with an opening and closing of my day, and I've learned to use those walks for a walking meditation, which had never occurred to me until a friend gave me Wherever You Go, There You Are by Jon Kabat-Zinn years ago. It helped me take advantage of moments that already existed in my day and turn them into something more expansive.

I have found, without a doubt, that when I manage to get outside myself and not make myself the center, I'm always taken care of in whatever situation I'm in, even if I'm slow to recognize it. It's counterintuitive thinking on some level and not consistently easy to do.

It's important to feel and to be connected to your emotions, whichever way they play out.

Love is hanging out at the ocean, watching my wife and little girls play in the sand. I know, I threw up a little too, but it's true.

I am not the center of the universe. And it's a lesson that I keep having to learn; it's my ongoing work, I'd say. And being in a career that is predicated on a degree of self-absorption, that is a tricky thing to negotiate sometimes.