Sober

Some Fridays are not for pubs or clubs or staying out late.  Some sunny, summer Friday evenings are good for a lazy wander to a neighborhood restaurant where you can wear your trainers – where you can be joined by friends (who happened to be passing by) for some family dinner style conversation to wrap up the week.

This week, for me at least, has been full to the brim with sentimental reflection.  So much is happening – always happening – but we alternate between being aware and unaware as we are able to process the information.  I have spent a few days feeling electrically charged, goose-bumped and hair-raised.  It’s a feeling I recognize.  It’s familiar and common, but I’ve always had some outlet for it.  You are so far away that these episodes are puzzling to me now; I must now channel this energy into something new.  But into what exactly?

I am full.  There is a dance – and at least a thousand words – searching for the path of least resistance out of this body.  I am teased by the thick grey London sky.  There will not be thunder.  No lightning will come.  But something big and overwhelming spills over inside me.

I miss the storms.  I miss the open space of the empty stage in an empty school auditorium where I used to dance until I was soaking wet and couldn’t breathe.  Just for me.   I miss the love that surrounded me, the love that tethered me in place, and the love that was unending in my heart when I was with Them.

For moments on end I am sure that the whole of creation feels what I am feeling.  The turning of the Earth and the sun through the clouds are all a part of me.  I feel as if I could close my eyes and send a shock wave of tickle, laughter, and longing through every living heart – my own secret super power.  And then it passes and I am just me again, until the next wave.

As I left work this Friday evening, I paused for a moment to study a Lawn Bowling tournament taking place in the green space within Finsbury Square.  Weird.  And cool.

 

Thursday night I met up with a great group of ladies for a fundraiser.  Emily, Leona, Lauren, Trisha, and I all enjoyed A Taste of Turin at the Fiat Showroom off Oxford Street, to benefit the Maple Leaf Trust.  Thanks to Emily, for alerting us to the event; we did have fun.  Trisha won the first raffle prize!  We also met a shockingly intoxicated party goer whose pick-up line was, “I thought this was the Canadian wives club – where I could find a wife, I mean.”  Really?!

I’ve tried to figure out which little Italian Restaurant we stumbled into for dinner, but I am just not sure.  Maybe Leona and Emily can help me out with that one.  It was yummy and I think you deserve a review!

Today is a very special day.  My big sister celebrates a birthday today; she is as old as me now, I think.  (I had a french lesson this week and I think it’s important to note that in some  other languages you are not x years old, you have x years.  In other words, you are never old.  You just have more years this birthday than you had last year.  Nice, huh?)  So, Happy Birthday, my sister!