windows

So, I don’t do windows

Today I love having a home, even though it isn’t technically my house, it is absolutely my home and I am welcome and sheltered there. I love that my biggest worry is whether I’ll be able to get enough coffee when I’m away from home, and I love that the world constantly reminds me that I am lucky to have such trivial worries. I love that the man down on the street, wrapped in a tarp and having his first cigarette of the day, spent last night, which was cold and snowy, on a warm grate, and that no one has moved him on from there yet. I love that years ago I learned that all satellite dishes point south, a surer sign of direction than moss on trees. I love that I have always called this urban orienteering. I love that I am once again in the city of my birth, though I have no family here that I am aware of, and of those I might conjure in my memory, I have no idea where to begin looking for them, but I am here and I am aware that there is more city than I will ever experience in what is left of my life and so am happily resigned to the idea of three days of looking. I love that that will not give me even a hundredth of a percent of the sum of this jigsaw of villages without borders.

Today I love that I am the adventurer once again, timid as I may be, I am going out on the streets, or maybe through the tunnels, and I am going to experience this little dot in the middle of this colossal dot in the middle of the southern edge of my gigantic country. I love that I do not live here. I love that I am still welcome here. I love that I am still busy and I love that this big busy city makes me feel slow and lazy. I love being awakened by my surroundings and made to look and think and realize where I am, what I am, what I am doing and that i am alive and in this moment.

Today I love that I am not an outdoor window washer. I could probably do the job, but I can’t really watch others doing it. I love that this city seems to run on coffee, so it’s easy to find fuel. I love that I am probably the only person I know that brings my own Keurig to a hotel with coffee makers in the room, because, ha, who could survive on two cups of coffee from an automatic drip machine? Not me!

Today I love coffee in the big city while trying hard not to watch the window washer guy.