Why should Bruce Hornsby have all the fun?

Last night was a girls night. I love girls nights. We started out the evening over margaritas and $2 Tuesday Taco's - and quite honestly - when it was time to leave the restaurant I was a little bit sad because I absolutely love sitting and talking to my friends. What to do with our kids and how to get our daughters to pick an outfit in the morning and how much exercise is enough or too much and travelling husbands and sales at J.Crew and laughing, lots of laughing.

We were off to hear Bruce Horsby play at The Music Hall. Now, I have to admit, live music has never been my thing. If I were to chose a performance event, I would much prefer to attend live theater or dance. And I'm a musical theater junkie. Concerts, bands, orchestras etc. - not so much. But my friend Lisa was really interested in going, and I love anything I see at The Music Hall - so - I withdrew myself from my pomegranate martini, and headed off - no expectations.

It was joyous. The way Bruce Hornsby plays the piano is like having the notes tickle you. And his voice resonates to your bones and the musicians were unbelievably talented. But that wasn't the best part.

The best part was watching this group of men -- some a little bald, some a little old, some a little paunchy, none of whom you would think "genius" as you passed on the street (well, with the exception of those of you who would recognize Bruce Hornsby - unlike me) -- LOVE LOVE LOVE what they were doing. And loving to get to do it with each other. And in their joy was humility in their genius. There was no arrogance. There was an inclusiveness created because we were all getting to experience their passion. They were having a blast.

That's how I want to be. I want to do what I love - joyously - and do it so well that it is inclusive because I love it so much. The genius? - perhaps with time, practice, lots of learning.  Genius seems less important than doing not just what you are good at - but what you love to do. Finding a way to profit from your passion.

A lesson definitely worth abandoning my pomagranate margarita for.