Living room parties and keeping a secret.

Like an ill-tempered and beleaguered child on the night before the first day of school, I am here at my writing desk, trying without much success to focus past the sounds of a work party my housemates are throwing in the living room. And it’s not even so much that I wish I could join, for I happily have my bed in my sights, and am looking forward to an early rising tomorrow to get some things checked off my to-do list. It’s just that there’s this grasping feeling of wanting more time to play, more time to dream, more time to just be as a child and let go…

More and more, I have this sense of “right timing” playing out in my life and in the lives of others around me. More and more, I find I no longer have the need to prove my point or to say my piece—though I sometimes do that still and with great feeling, when the moment calls. Tonight, for instance, I was introduced to someone who may be moving into our house in the wake of someone else’s departure. And this very real voice inside of me wanted to declare, “Very nice to meet you, but I won’t be kicking around here for much longer, either,” because that’s like a secret wish inside my heart. It’s the same wish that inspired me to gussy up my room all of a sudden (because I wish for more), taking the time (though it all happened rather instantaneously) to source rugs and bits of furniture, and to look back through what I had brought with me last year and then to hang up forgotten pieces of art and tapestry.

And yet, despite my great and powerful desire to have a place of my very own, I decided not to make this known to the young woman I met tonight, but told her instead how nice it was to meet her and then kept my secret to myself and went on my way.

Somehow, that secret is still a seed inside me. I water it by affirming it, by giving it space, and by allowing the circumstances, in conjunction with the seed’s guaranteed growth, to find me.

“Right timing.”

On Monday, the day this post goes live, I’ll be partnering with some cool people to launch our third interview of a series that spans disciplines, geographies, backgrounds, philosophies, and walks of life. I think I’m starting to get a knack for this. At least, it feels that way, like I’m finally starting to “come into my own.”

I knew this would happen someday. I know at least that my parents have petitioned the Creator over and over again that I should find my own place in this world. How beautiful to realize that “coming into my own,” though it sounds possessive, is actually a state of glorious interconnectivity.

To walk the path of life is to meet many, many people.

Until now, most of those people these last few years have been endless different versions of myself. Paradoxically, this lead me in circles until I met myself at the start again.

A homecoming.

Stronger now.

Joyful now,

and strength in joy has made in me a kind of tempered steel. Unbreakable. Unwavering. Like the backbone of my Soul; here to do what I was put here to do, and more…

I’m somewhat unfocused on this Sunday night, dear reader. The poet is trying to elbow her way out, but the eyelids are drooping. Away to bed am I.

Goodnight, good morning, and good day, wherever and whenever you may be.