but here I am.
(at Opposable Thumb cafe, with coffee in my Maui Coffee Roasters mug from Rachel, and two thick voter manuals, and writing materials.)
Beautiful girl next to me at the cafe just introduced herself. We talked about the sweetness of the voices of old ladies, and the burden of sorting out the long ballot this year. I made silly chit chat with the barista. It feels good to be out in the world, making little, gentle contacts.
I cooked so many beans today, and am excited to cook some more: baba ghanoush probably, and another batch of crackers, and black bean soup.
I'm in an anchored spot. I mean, having one of those moments that shares all its important characteristics with a lot of other moments across my life, so when I'm in it, they pull together, like a gathering thread was pulled taught. It's made out of: the comfort and ease of a good cafe; the hum of human voices; a hot drink; my mind turning in to check my condition and suddenly seeing myself there, the same, from the vantage of a new place in time; and ink stains on my fingers. It's a good place, it makes the future exciting and full of potential, and the past seem like a rich ground to draw from.