It is not so simple as that, I'm sure: there is a huge invisible infrastructure supporting each of those persons, and what has really happened is that some critical piece of the get-it-done foundation is finally in place and bearing weight. But it feels simple.
I am braiding something in the dark, my fingers working quickly, skillfully. But I don't know how I learned to do it, and I don't know what I'm making.
I take a few deep breaths, and I feel the oxygenated blood washing to every shore of this vast body of mine. I am so glad to be alive, to feel the numbness of the last few years wear off. I am older and grimmer, in some ways, but I'm as fierce as ever. And I care less than ever about keeping up appearances. There's no time for that. I may be rich: but not so rich that I can afford to throw good money after bad.