Like all good years, this one developed a theme. Not that the theme was  planned, mind you. The theme just developed on its own accord, like the riff from a musical jam session that just keeps re-emerging.  This year's theme was one of connection.

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For example, on July 3 my sister and her fiancé Brian fulfilled a commitment to connect on a marital level. In a picturesque park just outside of Bend Oregon, they celebrated their future life together surrounded by friends and family from all over the country.

Five days later, Elsa's cousin Lindsey made the same commitment with friends and family  in downtown Portland. Seven days after that, my cousin Shawna created a country wedding experience in the middle of Montana with over 200 folks shaking a leg on the edge of a field of ripening barley.

In three weeks we made and remade hundreds of connections and reconnections between friends and family, some of whom we have not seen in a dozen years. Some of whom we may never see again.

It seems strange to reflect on the people who flow in and out of our lives. Some linger for a longer look; some touch us and trail off to points unknown. Some connections lead to other connections. Who knew that my friendship with Jon Stavney some 16 years ago would connect me with his sister ten years later and lead my own marriage. How is it that Elsa has continued to stay in touch with her friend Trina from the time they were in third grade and yet so many other friendships (ones that seemed closer at the time) have faded?

It seems connections have varying degrees of strength for varying lengths of time. Some last the ravages of time, and others suffer from a frail wind that sends  people in far flung directions. All those buddies I had in high school. What became of them? Those college confidants, where are they now? My grade school playmates. I remember their faces and some of our schoolyard games but I've no idea where they play these days.

Elsa and I were snuggled into my comfortable old beanbag, in our newly remodeled basement watching an old episode of Northern Exposure compliments of Netflix.(have we mentioned that we are addicted to Netflix? It has made us into movie sluts...mommy, what’s a movie slut?) In this episode of the four season sitcom about life in the fictional, Cicely, Alaska, the Alaskan Police try to extradite one of the favorite local characters for a crime he committed some 15 years earlier in Virginia. His lawyer makes the argument that this fellow is not the same person who committed the crime more than a decade before. His fingerprints may match, but he has made such a radical change in who he is that the old Chris would not even recognize the new Chris.


The court didn't buy it, but in truth, we are not really the same person inside that we were 30 years ago, or 20 years ago, or even last year. Our mind works to create some sense of continuity with who we were and who we are, but who we are continues to evolve and change so the sense of continuity is mostly an illusion. Our choice then with relation to each other is whether we change and stay connected, or change and drift apart.

It used to be that if someone said to me, "my Eric, you haven't changed a bit." I'd think that was a compliment. Look, I'm so genuinely me that I don't change over time. But now if someone said that to me...I'd think, "really, I haven't changed? Jeez! What's wrong with me. How could I become so stagnant." I want to always be in that state of becoming.

This year was about connection. Connections with business, connections with old friends, new friends, old family, new family, connections with Elsa.  I hope that his little letter finds you connected to those who are important to you. I hope that next year gives us the opportunity to connect with you in bold and profound ways, paving new paths for us to stay connected going forward into the future.

So until we see you again, stay healthy and warm.

Happy Holidays,

Eric and Elsa