Coffee Shop, Saturday Night

Combing through books at 11:35PM on a Saturday night, I feel a strange sense of comfort. TJ and Maomao are just behind me in a corner, chatting over tea. I'm not sitting with them because of work, but I feel their presence, and having them there makes it easier for me to plough through the words. I get a call from Ronald asking, "are you out?" (because, of course I would be out on a Saturday night). I reply matter-of-factly, "nope, I'm reading" (those books that JJ gave us). He wows a little and asks for club recommendations. His Canadian friends are in town, and apparently I give off the vibe that I go clubbing a lot, not the case, not anymore. I tell Maomao, I'm never going to Sanli to drink again. This will probably not be the case, but I mean it on a spiritual level. Sanli has no hold on me now, and I will probably not seek it out. Maomao asks, "why are you giving yourself so much pressure?"

"It's a passion project," I explain. After all the drinking, the men, the rage, all that's left is a sea of calm and a penetrating focus. I get up seven in the morning -- weekdays, weekends. I ride my bike to work. I'm using ABCD goal setting rules. I'm inching toward whatever that feels right, what feels good.

All is well.

Previous
Previous

Exploding Balloons

Next
Next

150% Commitment