Fresh Eyes

My friends saw

mosaics

paintings

whimsy

art

opportunity

where I saw

dust

grime

exclusion

skepticism

immobility

They felt energy where I felt chaos and frustration

They found wonder and eyes-open joy in mangoes and markets and teeming multitudes

My resignation revealed me

Embarrassed and ashamed that I had lost sight of the sweetness in an effortlessly peeled miniature pineapple, sliced to order for my exclusive enjoyment, still cold from hard-working ice, deposited graciously in a stiff plastic bag with an accompanying over-large wooden toothpick to pierce each puckering, buoyant piece of fruit and savor, at the expense of my mouth and tummy, as I stroll, sabai sabai, to wherever it is I might be going.

I want to love it here

I wish I could love it here

But the truth is, I don't have to

And granting myself that permission makes me happier

Gives me fresh eyes

What I have to do is thank my visitors who reminded me that my time here is brief and it can be beautiful if I choose to see it that way. I miss my family, friends, evergreens, clean air, homegrown lettuce, and brand new baby cousins. I wish I had marched in Washington, I wish I was holding signs of protest at SEA-TAC, I wish I could hug my friends who have been the recent victims of racist attacks, I wish I could be welcoming women in need to my local Planned Parenthood. I am angry and anxious but I am keeping my eye on the prize, doing what I can from afar and trying to appreciate the gifts in my life, whether they be people or pineapples.

A visual thank you to my visitors and those I've visited