Updated: Oct 30
I decided that this post will be a bit different from what I usually choose to write about in this space.
I've now begun to energetically settle into the space that I am steadily carving out for myself in Newark. I have a routine where I am in the gym well before sunrise and am back home sipping my morning coffee just as the sun is peeking over the horizon. My Sundays are spent doing the most mundane of things: cleaning, food prep, laundry, and catching up on facetime with girlfriends and family. Of course, there are my daily Brazilian Portuguese lessons that consistently leave my American tongue tired in ways no blow job ever has.
And I love every minute of this new space that I occupy.
One that I am unfolding into.
The myriad ways in which I can find myself lost in a crowd of people where everyone is Lord and Lady in their own saga is fascinating. I understand more deeply why the cities of the northeast sing a siren song that beckons many to their greatest opportunity or their greatest downfall. We never break stride and rarely make eye contact as we all rush to infinite destinations, yet we all share the same hopes, fears, joys, and sorrows.
As the days shorten and the trees begin to shed their summer foliage to conserve their energy for the cold days ahead, I think about how fall was traditionally a time of harvest. Perhaps it is still...it is hard to discern among the din of capitalist consumerism demanding that we spend ourselves dry. Christmas is destined to overtake October any year now. Soon we will be buying Christmas "stuff" in July.
Arriving home this week, I am filled with gratitude. I am thankful for the special people I have met on my journey. I am even thankful to the not-so kind people as well, because there is something to learn from everyone whose path crosses our own. This week has taught me to trust. To leap and know that you will fly. To trust the vast stillness that lies within.
We are halfway through October with just two months remaining in 2023 and while the year is ending for most, I feel that things are just beginning for me.