Indian summer (lit. a period of unseasonably warm weather in late autumn).

I’m writing simply to say that I’m at a good point in my life right now.

I think it’s important to write about good, happy days as much as I spend writing about gray, long days. The present isn’t perfect and to be honest, I’m not actually spending all my hours extremely productively. Most days are mundane with equally mundane activities – hanging out with my siblings, any six of them, babysitting nieces and nephews, spending time with my parents and of course, completing household chores. Late evenings and nighttime are often spent trading stories and exchanging opinions at the kitchen table or on my bed. My closest cousin sister who is a year older has been staying with us for the past year since she started work in the city; we’ve seamlessly and naturally reconnected as adults now and she is a constant source of hilarity, strength, and comfort – depending on the flavor of the hour and day.

In short, I no longer feel the urgency and need to internalize and write so frequently anymore.

I’m in good hands and even better company.

Who knows how long this calm will last, isn’t it? With ease comes hardship; it’s a necessary natural cycle of the living. But I’m writing this right now, I want to, so that if this same time next year I’m back in a deep, dark pit – lost and wandering – I can look back to my writings from this period and recognize this as the truth, “Ah, I lived those carefree days with my eyes and heart wide open.” Maybe this very write-up will give me strength to keep going, on days I want to give up. Maybe this very write-up will serve as a source of strength, a temporary shelter from the stormy weather.

Hey? I’m genuinely happy.

The other day I chuckled to myself, realizing – not for the first time, of course – how differently I write these days. Correction: how differently I write myself these days. But once this thought appeared, I let out another chuckle – but of course. By that I mean – of course I’d write myself differently nowadays compared to the past, one that holds endless images of my younger, less matured versions… what was I expecting? If there is no change, that means there were no growth – I wouldn’t want that. With this logic, it’s natural – expected, desired – that I write myself differently these days.

I think my writing voice is firmer and calmer now.

If you sensed this as you read me throughout this summer, I wonder if I am correct in believing that maybe, just maybe, my present metamorphosis is complete. Twenty-four’s a good year; I’m grateful. Soon though, I’m sure, another phase will unveil itself …but I only want to look at the present right now, take things day by day. If hardship is bound to come again, why chase after it? There are years of questions and answers, remember? Hardships and ease oftentimes come hand-in-hand, but every once in awhile, God gives us a break – an unanticipated but completely welcomed Indian summer.

I’m living my Indian summer right now; experiencing everything, thinking freely, globetrotting everywhere possible.

I leave for Amsterdam on Friday night where I’ll spend several days there with Eldest Bro and his colleagues, all psychiatrists – without saying, this trip will be interesting – before moving on to Copenhagen, where I’ll have three full days to venture out and get to know the city, by myself, while they attend their course. I’m excited. I’ve started my research, planning out my itinerary and taking notes of sights I want to catch. It feels good to be on the move again – back to being a traveler, an outsider looking in… a foreigner. I look forward to yet again, losing and finding myself in someone else’s home.

I’m writing simply to say that I’m at a good point in my life right now.

My heart of life is good.

I am grateful, at peace and happy – and I wish each of you, truly and sincerely, similar warmth and gentleness.

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