Eighty-nine minutes before boarding, I sank down across from the Duty Free shop in deep relief. Vanilla warmth wafted up from my steamed milk, familiar and soothing. After many mishaps and two missed flights, it looks like the universe is letting me take this trip after all. Read more
What I’ve learned after writing 30 cold emails in 7 days: It’s just like working out — do it enough and you start thinking the pain is fun.
If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use in reading it at all.
This morning arrived in the form of a smoking caterpillar, wheezing down the streets with large, gulping exhalations.
Walking onto the bus, I gave great thanks for my dulled sense of smell. It’s no elephant in the room that the metro stank something terrible at all hours of the day, but today there was a particular parfúm of blueberry bagel and weed, with lingering notes of infant spit. Seattle Metro, how I resent you some times.
As luck would have it, I chanced on a spider at its loom this morning. I was transfixed by the shimmering wheel and its weaver, dancing the perimeter. The radiant outline, so thin, but startlingly perceptible, caught the full of my sleep-aided wonder.
As I stood quite arrested, a clarity came over me. Late as I was to the bus, distracted as I was with Facebook, frustrated as I was with responsibility, my spirit became lifted by the fragile scene before me. Such a relief it was to feel so present, so fully present! It was like I had stepped into a living painting and drawn close the curtains to reality.
I would have stayed in the swirling gold dust magic of dawn discovery, but every second stolen away in my painting seemed a minute tarried to the office. As my steps carried me away with gaining speed, I felt my heart breaking for the day.