In a cozy cafe, trying to get back into the swing of things. Pick up my pace and all that.
I'm amused by the chase and whirl of my emotions, how they move like clouds through my being. It is a blessing and a curse to be a writer by both nature and trade.
I so often feel insecure, inadequate even while I laugh at myself for being like so many others. My computer is processing slowly, reducing the speed at which I can type. This gives me a wonderful opportunity to practice patience, to slow down and tune in. Deep breathing helps.
My resolutions? Unwritten, vaguely formed. Sustainable changes in diet and life habits. A reduction in expenses. An uptick in income-based hours. Maybe I'll look for a day job, just to see where that leads. More writing by hand, a physical connection to the print different than the warm, clicking tangibility of my lovely, but tempermental, laptop.
Our vacation? Rows of dollhouse bright mansions next to a park lapped around a lake and with history jutting a rosy glow into the sky. Rain glistening streets in the dark, city night where a promise dances around every corner. The jewel-like hustle of Union Square, bedecked with lights, wreaths and joy. People bundle in and out of fancy hotel lobbies, trailing scarves, and ice skaters look like miniature figures in a music box.
Mornings, B would wake me before the others and we would stroll a strange suburb under leaden skies. Holding hands and chatting happily, in love with the world. We found a shop full of people eating breakfast, all speaking a foreign tongue, drinking tan liquid out of battered tin cups. Milk tea, Asian-style. We marched right to the back and ordered some to go, to the consternation and disbelief of the clerk. She didn't think I knew that it had condensed milk. She didn't know that tea this way is my favorite. We also took away some fresh red-bean cakes, back to the hotel room for breakfast the Cantonese way.
We stayed up until 2 am, not driving out of San Francisco until 9 or 10 pm, then playing word games with my brother and sister-in-law until we were exhausted, keeping our voices down around the grained oak table while the baby slept. Mornings we were up by the crack of 11, out into the world to eat and explore.
My daughters hardly left their baby cousin's side, entranced by her smile and wondrous eyes. Every moment, in so many ways, this vacation shows me how far I have come in my life and how happy I am to be here.
