Time after time

I ended the day in a cosy bar downstairs, crammed with people who are all living out their own stories in fluid, squiggly ways, listening to my neighbour Kat sing. Jazz, standards, her own songs, full-voiced, ochre spirit.

Kat "retired" one of her songs tonight, the Cindy Lauper song Time after Time, which she used to sing with her friend who died about a month ago. caught up in circles/confusion is nothing new/flashback warm nights/almost left behind/suitcase of memories.... Gorgeous rich focused moment, a crowd who loves her, soaring catching voice. A moment of perfect balance.

I dont really know Kat, but we touch edges now and again. I let her park her vespa in my parking spot, and we have little conversation fragments now and again -- my doorway, my countertops, me showing off my gold sandals to her and her young gay boyfriend Matt, my rescuing her from trying to cart her end of year project to school on her teetering bicycle.

I let myself live in my neighbourhood today, live into people who matter to me. M back from Rwanda, wrung out but so steady and sweet. Kat, a tentative friendship over coffee and muffins and talk of what happens to your energy when you die. Bethy and Huckleberry. A rueful phone call with my best friend D. Email chats with S & D, who matter despite their recent arrival into my life. A run along the water and an accidental encounter with an old pal. Dinner with J&S and Carly and so much love and warmth. Then the bar and the music and such... crowded warmth.

I was here today, present to loss and looking at everything square on and owning my parts and looking forward and sanguine shrugs. Tomorrow, I need to really get some work done. Today, I was living into being happy with the Cate that I am. A thread of disappointment, acknowledgement of my part in that, a belief that my richest stories are still before me.