If you allow yourself to be open to the struggles of humanity, it can sometimes be difficult to remain hopeful and positive. I try to educate myself on what is going on in the world. I try to remember that as I type away, in the comfort of my sitting room, with my A/C and chai latte, there are many things simultaneously occurring that are unfathomable and devastating. I try to remind myself daily of how blessed I am. I’m pretty good at remaining grateful. I can look at my family, friends and animals, and know that they are all a reflection of what is good in life.

It might seem weird that I’m starting a post about the All-Star Game with the above paragraph, but honestly, my experience at the All-Star Game always invokes a feeling of gratitude. It is a reminder that, not only am I blessed to be given the opportunities bestowed upon me, but also that I am blessed to have been born into this country.

Baseball is an escape for me. I get lost in it. Baseball is the coming together of unlike minds for a like purpose. Every moment before a pitch is thrown has its own pulse. Looking at a field and seeing all the greats in the game, in all their shapes and sizes–their different cultural backgrounds, history and cellular make up–is a reminder that anyone, from anywhere, can play the game of baseball. You don’t have to be seven feet tall or seven feet wide. It is the Everyman’s sport. Regardless of any controversy that surrounds baseball, this is what I think of when I look at all the greats on one field.

I had a beautiful time in St. Louis.