Possibilities

Tonight is the last night that I am sleeping in a house that is not mine, or that is not my residence.  I have been couch-surfing, staying in various residences (only three different ones, really), while waiting for a sublet to open up.  As these things always turn out, the charity of others is astonishing and humbling, as is the extent of providence.

This morning:  I am leaving this house and walking down a sort of side-road in the Palisades, down towards the bus.  Less coffee than is normal for me at breakfast, but good conversation.

At this point, the time is about a quarter of noon.  The weather is in that unusual place where it's neither too hot or cold, the only breeze is what's felt as one walks down the road, and the sky is an unblemished blue.  I've just exchanged some text messages with a very good friend, one that I have trusted for an awfully long time, and one who I heard speaking to another person on the phone, a couple of nights before.  The level of care in her voice towards this person was remarkable, and this has me thinking about recent events in my own life, as well as a choice that I still feel obligated to feel some guilt over, though this guilt is likely irrational.

As I pass some tennis courts, it comes to mind that for the first time in some months, I have a sense of openness about me, but openness with a direction to it.  There is a distinct lightness to this.  Within a few seconds, I begin to think that perhaps I should not feel this, as there are still some material obligations to be discharged.  Perhaps this lightness, this lack of concern for the future, is a manifestation of some latent immaturity that I still haven't managed to work out of myself, though certainly I am not using so many words in the moment.  A clear tinge of guilt creeps in.

And then almost immediately dissipates again:  I am fully aware of the air on my skin, the pleasantness of the weather.  I also note that, it's not quite a spring, but a sense of propulsion to my stride:  I have something that I can look forward to.

The sense of personal judgment also fades a bit, and by the time I've reached the bus stop, I feel more like my full height and span.

jbh