Having spent two of the last three weeks gone for meetings and conferences, and missing my Zoe all the while, I've pondered a lot about being her dad. Then somebody remarked that I should encourage my girl to become something more financially secure than an artist and to consider, when she's ready to decide upon a husband, the fellow's projected earnings. In a moment, I knew how I want to raise my daughter.

She can become whatever she wants. She can marry (or choose not to) whomever she pleases to.  I'm fine with her running her own life.  I'll tell her everything I believe but won't demand that she believe the same. And I'll try to help her stay resilient enough so she doesn't have to live in a self-defense posture, so she can always perceive the world with child-like clarity and wonder.

Most of us adults are so busy defending our emotions we miss most of what goes on in this world that should astonish us every new moment. We need self-help gurus to remind us to simply be aware.

Raymond Carver wrote (I think he was quoting another writer) that a writer doesn't need to be particularly smart but only to be able to look at a leaf or an old shoe in amazement. I want Zoe, at twenty, thirty, fifty, eighty, to still be able to experience that way. If that means she'll become an artist of humble means, she's got my blessing, and may God bless her too.