Two months ago, I sat in City Lights Bookstore in San Francisco and wondered how I’d gotten there.
I mean, not City Lights Bookstore. (I walked.) But, there — sitting, rocking in a chair in the attic of this bookstore, attempting to pinpoint where I went off-track. Continue reading “Rolling the dice”
It was my last day in Beacon, NY and I was with the woman who has become a sister. My 10-day trip to New York had been filled with overwhelming beauty: I’d cried at the 9/11 memorial. At Central Park. Hell, I’d even cried at a burger joint in Harlem.
But, this… this shouldn’t have made me cry.
“Why don’t you just try something?”
We were talking about my career plans. Over the weeklong visit, I had posed the idea of quitting my job to begin a yoga teacher training. I had no plans after that.
Waiting for my response, Mo looked at me in the way she reserves for the sometimes. The sometimes when our armor has been flung off, left forgotten by the door.
I looked down at my two tacos, decorated with guacamole, and I started to cry.