It's a rainy late December afternoon in San Francisco, and I find myself in a joyful mood after spending the morning daydreaming. It's a funny feeling, imagining timelines with your mind and heart in playful conversation. Until the heart says let's go, and there you are, smiling like a fool, walking in the rain.
Some days I worry I'll never find my way. But not on days like this. On days like this, I feel like a cup filled past the brim, pouring over into the world. I can barely catch myself, and for a minute, this is the sweetest feeling. Trusting you'll find form in the end. Such a joy to be here—the simple kind, the quiet kind.
When the words come, I write. Not for an audience, not for myself. It's just the way it is. Today I wonder: what makes a story big? Is it my story? Yours? Stories shifting as we flow through time and find each other? Or is it the untold story, the one living between the pages of what's written, vast in possibility? What I do know is that stories matter in big ways.
For the longest time, I told myself one story. Nobody kids don't end up in rooms like these. Standing on the hill, looking out at the city lights, wondering how and why it happened, when it would end. Still, the wonder and the promise of tomorrow. The calmness that comes from knowing this story could always be brought back to life. But today I wonder if there's a different one waiting to be told.
My dad once told me the only way to be strong is on your own. He's my hero, so his words became my credo. I think he studied planes because he wanted to fly. But life before and after 1989 broke something in him, as it did in my mom. His words kept me safe for a long time. And they got me to impossible places.
But if I were to write another story, I'd say strength comes from courage, and there's nothing braver than opening one's world to other worlds. So much to fear, yes, but so much to learn, and grow into. And sometimes, just sometimes, what a joy to share the view.
In this new story, she is a rebellion. A forest fire.
Even in the rain.
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