One more year

to keep up with the pack. to move forward. to grow. change. love. discover. share. I've found in the past few weeks that the best medicine for not knowing what to do next is just to be with good friends...and through events, conversations, dinners...and music (always music)...a path is found. a way toward. So what if I only have three friends in the city. And these are good friends. Ones I would trust with my life. So lucky. Life will fold open or in on itself for me, like a beautiful origami bird. Keep calm and carry on. Day one of the next year.

Yesterday's Sightings

Barbershop window, man in chair sending text message while the barber, raising the man's chair...also sends a text message. Neither one speaking.
A fuzzy orange, fox-like dog being carried in a striped backpack as if in a papoose.
A teacher, reading her memo about budget cuts and being let go to a friend on her mobile.
Outwalking a supermodel type, teetering down the sidewalk in six inch heels that looked like geometric filing cabinets.
Smiling, saying thank you, and shaking hands with the men in uniform heading to JFK.
Catching a glimpse of myself in a plate glass window and not recognizing it's me.

This heart

The physical is beautiful, but you know nothing. The shining eyes,  sculpted mouth and beautiful smile, the curve of a hip. When the day is done, the make up comes off. The hair is pushed back. The hips are hidden under blankets and folds of soft cotton. The dishes are left in the sink. The toothpaste tube, squeezed from the middle. Shoes, left muddy by the door. My flaws are like your own but maybe of a different subject. My history, my scars and insecurities are there...making up who I am. But the strength and spirit of a woman in all of her imperfection is a glory to know. It seems the more I give, the more I have left over. I am never spent completely.
I am a woman.
And I love.