Goodness is everywhere: under my pillow, in the far corner of my 'fridge, under the mixing bowl I haven't used since I baked that last batch of cookies, down the hall, under my fingernails, at the bottom of that bottle of wine. It's in that blues riff that always makes you want to die. Exchanging coupons at the Bed, Bath and Beyond, inside peanut shells, quietly typing in the morning all alone - these are places, too. What about the dust on your bookcase? And your split ends? Hardware stores, between aisles 3 and 6, and with country boys named Mark.
Remember that one time we were at that one bar and you played Willie Nelson? It was there, too. Walking near churches late at night in the rain. Crying until your young lungs are tender. Standing up with a sore back. Burdens tucked deep in the muscles somewhere between the scapula and spine. All of those places. There and everywhere.
Don't kid yourself, though, you know? Other things live there, too.