At 5:15 pm this afternoon I was wrapping up my day, closing applications and straightening my desk for the morning, when I took one more glance at my personal email. My friend Cindy had emailed me saying, “What are you doing for dinner? Sushi?????? :).” With no set plans for the evening, snatched up the phone to give her a shout and set a time to meet at Kami Sushi.
I walked out of my office building and into the freakishly warm night, plugged into the shuffling pod, unnecessary coat slung across my bag, feeling jaunty (what a good, expressive word. It doesn’t get used nearly enough), happy and looking forward to dinner. As I walked east down Market Street, I felt the loneliness and dissatisfaction of the weekend drain away. It was replaced by a feeling of hope, excitement for the future and generalized bliss at being alive in this place, at this time and in this life. I’ve felt this way before and I know that it doesn’t last, at least at that level of strength and intensity, but I’m always grateful for the moments when I feel it, because it allows me to reset myself, find my default settings of contentment.
I’ve been feeling change coming for sometime, although those feelings has receded into the background a little as life in Philly has gotten more interesting and engrossing again. But it’s still back there, in the back of mind, an itch I can’t quite reach and it grows more irritating when I think about it. Unfortunately it doesn’t get any better when I scratch it either. Over the sushi (yellowtail/scallion and eel/avocado rolls) Cindy asked me what my plan was and I had to confess that I have no plan. I’m just going to hang with the uncertainty for a little while longer (I’m giving myself an April 1st reevaluation deadline) and try to enjoy those little moments of unsolicited, unexpected joy.