WHAT surprises me the most is the strange, unbelievable chasm of time between my waking up and my leaving the room. Light years away, that void, unappreciated by most, except the very few who hardly have time for anything else other than the painful, occasionally dreadful, sometimes joyful, reality of work.
The curtains are drawn, and my little bed is filled with sunshine. Everything is aglow. The house, in its stillness, beckons to be looked at, studied—its nook and cranny, the little specks of dust that have settled on the jalousies—just because I can. I have all the time in the world. There is time for contemplation, for prayer, for smelling the freshly brewed coffee as little drops of it falls from the machine. The phone is quiet, and I am not needed.
So this is how it feels like. My heart sings, leaps, and dances at this strange, new, free world that has opened up.
aww brother!i can feel the joy!!sulitin ang leave!see you when September begins!ReplyDelete
Yes, hard as it may be to accept, it will be your turn next week. It's wonderful to be out of our PGH hell-hole, even for just a few days. I am excited for you and sad for me.Delete
This morning we will have high tea (ah, the height of pretensions!) at Raffles Hotel along Orchard Rd. I don't know what else is planned--perhaps dinner with the Cobradors, our Koronadal neighbors who have relocated here for good. Yesterday I saw elephants, white rhinos, giraffes, and--gasp---pygmy hippos at the Zoo. I also had my first espresso shot at Awfully Chocolate, a very hipster coffee-and-cake place you shouldn't miss.
I wish you the best vacation experience, dear Merv. Your compassion will be recharged, and your mind and heart will be cleared of clutter.