There are moments when my heart is just bursting at the seams, driving my mind wild with visions towards my desire.
If I can move, I do. I head down the path, ideally without haste, but with speed.
Sometimes the path is not clear.
Sometimes an unclear path makes me question the vision, and my heart loses steam.
Sometimes an unclear path reinforces the vision, and my heart races harder.
Summer approaches.
In Seattle, summers are a beautiful reward for the melancholy greys of winter and schizophrenia of spring.
But I’m not just describing the weather.
My life is entering its own summer; the sky is clearing, the environment has become warm and accommodating.
I wake up with a renewed sense of urgency, to take full advantage of each day, and to fill it with that which brings me joy.
It is not loud. It does not announce itself. It is the kind of music you have to be already listening to to hear at all.
Momo doesn’t want to go school.
Waking her up becomes a battle in which she deploys her most capable defense: pretending like I don’t exist.
Not waking her up makes me feel like a shitty parent. Waking her up but not getting her to school makes me feel like a shitty parent.
Either way, I know the consequences of this “sophmore slump” - if it is indeed “temporary” - will not be catastrophic, but …
