Which means travel, both recent and reminiscent (San Francisco, New York City, Portland).
It means accomplishments, and dancing, and long bike rides, and sunshine.
I suppose it also means anxiety, loneliness, running, and indecision. But that’s me, Friends. I am those things.
And it means more pictures, of course, but not tonight. Tonight I will tell you a story, and then we will go to sleep, because it is late.
* * *
This is the story of a girl who lived in the land of Know, where people made plans, chartered paths, and then walked their lives like a tightrope, straight to the other side.
But this little girl didn’t know, or she thought she knew, but the she changed her mind, broke something, fell apart. And in the land of Know (where both K and W are silent), our little girl was made to feel that it was bad and wrong not to know, to be crippled by indecision, or to chase after darkness, or to go to bed early with no big plans. No, little girl, they said. Not like that.
And she didn’t know. She just didn’t know. But she thought, and she dreamed, and she made little plans, dancing and laughing even sometimes. She found for herself a set of challenges and adventures, and she met them one-by-one, conquering joyously, moving in unrelated patterns from one small victory to the next, alighting just long enough to understand and embrace and ache and cry. Like skipping among the stars, chasing their twinkling light.
Perhaps we can call that knowing.
* * *
I ran around Central park, Friends. Not the outside–I ran along paths inside the park, staying as close to the perimeter as possible to cover the most distance, and that was about 2 hours. Mission accomplished, and cross it off my Life list.
A wholesome-looking young man high fived me, about halfway through, in passing. Maybe he knew I was realizing my dream.