Select Page

Today, after dropping off my son, I walked briskly home to start work. If you have never walked with me, you should probably know when I say walking, what I mean is I keep up a pace just short of a jog, as fast as my long legs can handle on autopilot to carry me swiftly to my destination. You don’t waste time when walking is also transportation.

After a lovely laid-back weekend, which was not originally in the cards, I was feeling rejuvenated even under the heavy influence of a lack of sleep. My mind wandered over the past twenty-four hours replayed in my head while Tegan and Sara kept pace with my stride.

What a wonderful place to be. Who would have thought that I could ever spend a hushed hour listening to philosophy and Buddhist enlightenment with my head pressed against a shoulder, a beard brushing my cheek? To let myself be truly held by a person, by a moment, and let myself stay vulnerable there? For once, I am simply content to listen and drink in the perspective of another without feeling I needed to add something simply for the sake of opening my mouth. When did pauses become as worthwhile as words? When did I become so soft?

After releasing all of last week’s emotional baggage, I feel light, confident that I can move forward in my work, my choices, my options. Turning a corner, I skip over the two steps and just barely restrain a public display of dancing.

I walked past a tall window and jumped, startled, because I noticed a woman out of the corner of my eye walking uncomfortably close to me. I wheeled around trying to get a better look at her and to get out of the way (she was in a bigger hurry than). Not seeing her, I spun in two full circles before I stopped – and realized the apparition was my reflection.

Pausing a moment to watch the woman mirrored back, I noticed she seemed taller somehow. The clothes she was wearing were still somewhat unfamiliar, although she looked well put together. Slightly disconcerted that I didn’t recognize myself, a smile started to creep up as the full weight of the realization hit me.

That woman looked great.

She looked ridiculously happy. Like she took care of herself. Like she knew what she wanted.

I think I’d like to get to know her better.