Shade sweeps across my toes and hair as my hips sway. I talk low, threading words into sentences, traversing the wireless to another. Her voice, small and intelligent, vast in her breath of language, is articulate and a joy.
I hear my oldest son playing piano, a new song he's learned that he renders with little effort. His fingers grace the piano keys as if he's played before, but he hasn't. I'm amazed at his talent and intuitiveness.
I sat with a friend a few days ago, me drinking an Americano and her a chai, and discussed our lives and perceptions. We've changed over the years, a little wiser, possibly a little smarter, but definitely happier. We touched on spirituality and what that means, our families and loved ones.