Happy November.
I am a newly arrived Vancouver immigrant.
Awoke at 6am, which was really 7am, after a solid sleep on the loft bed.
It is quiet here. I like it.
The unpacking of boxes continues. Brain is unceasingly making decisions on how to place and organize, how to give each item a place to belong (Is this why we call our things belongings?). The sustained brain activity tires me.
Last night I tried to rest, only to get up and unpack a few more boxes. There are brief moments of true rest, when I am thankful, when I surrender. I am learning to let go, to believe in my faith, to trust that things will be fine without the effort of my worry. To be faithful and to worry are a direct contradiction, I am learning.
It is truly a beautiful morning.
I really love this couch.
When people say they are bored, don't they really mean that they are lonely?
Breakfast at Bon'sWe help ourselves to coffee and serve refills to one another. You can chat about your weekend, where you're from or where you're moving to, and tell stories about your experiences.
You can be quiet amidst the hub-bub and read a few pages from your book. You can make faces at the baby sitting at the next table, welcoming the child into the morning ritual. Someday you can say the you've been coming here since you were born.
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