A Good Day

Sometimes it takes a foggy day to see things clearly. The weather was miserable today and I finally felt comfortable in China. It rained and brought the temperature down to a perfect 66 degrees. The dreary gray drizzled all over me as I drove back from the coffee shop on my bike. I curled up with a blanket as the dampness came through my window. I sat there with a book, a cup of tea and some porridge and felt like I was back in Ireland, or in Jack Ridl’s poem “Rain on the Burren.” I relished it.

I fell asleep reading a book about hiking. When I woke up I was ready for a hike of my own; so I put on my shoes and walked halfway to Xiaoshan. Two hours later my feet hurt - the good kind of hurt, the kind you get from doing something you know you should have done sooner. I've been neglecting my walks because of my aversion to the heat and humidity. Hopefully this is a sign that summer is close to an end.

The capstone of my evening was a long overdue three and a half hour conversation with my mother. I had finished writing my statement of purpose for PhD applications this morning and sent it to her via email. Her response made me believe she had more to tell me, but was waiting for verbal communication. It has been weeks since I've heard her voice and it was just one more comfort of the day to remind me of home. My mother and I often have the kind of conversations you need to build up to, like having to work up an appetite before Thanksgiving so that you can stuff as much as you can into one meal. For us, phoning is nothing less than a verbal marathon. I enjoy these conversations and often have a chance to figure out a little part of who I am when I speak to her. Sometimes it is this tiny clarity that can bring the bigger picture into focus. She calls it her enlightenment.