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Here I am in my little writing corner, my private bathroom to my left, my windows open wide to the sky and the 19 floors below me to my right, and there are all the gulls and pigeons that come to roost on the railings below, seemingly to watch me. I’ve tried to give them names, but they all look alike, so I gave up that conceit days ago.

What right have i to name them? How colonial of me.

I wonder if they talk about me: “there’s that the crazy bedheaded lady with a steaming cup of coffee typing away at her keyboard…..she looks out the window at us a lot. Oh look, there’s that man bringing her something to eat…looks like eggs…we don’t much like her eating eggs!”

I’ve written journals and the like since i was a kid, and have written practically every day since i was 15, but i have never had as congenial a writing spot as i now have here on the 19th floor, a spot carefully prepared for me by a husband who appreciates and supports my lifelong addiction.

This large bedroom is flooded and i do mean flooded with light, even when it is grey out, which it rarely is here in the City by the Bay. I swim in sunlight, and float in the nighttime lights of the Ferry Building and the Embarcadero. I am neither down on the earthbound ground, nor up in the ungovernable realms of space …i am seated comfortably in my old white and easy writing chair, with infinity right outside my window.

I am in-between heaven and earth.

And, more often than not, i picture myself floating out the window and gently soaring through the limitless and ever-changing skies right out there to my right. That floating space is so near. SO touchable.
I am terrified of heights, usually, loathe going on an airplane or even get nauseated near an airport, but somehow i trust that when i float out this window of mine, this wall of windows with which this bedroom is blessed, i trust i will be supported by a benign God of Air and Energy, and that He (or She or It or They) will welcome me with open airy arms. Cushion my perch and treat me like all the Chagall characters I have ever loved. I will become the Bride in her colorful village clothing….embracing the Groom as we dream of our Sabbath nights together. I will chatter and soar like Chagall’s magical birds, praising god with every flap of my wings. I will be joyous.

Which is how i feel when I am seated here writing.
I soar.
I am grateful for the chance to fly around inside myself and discover what there is to see, to taste, to touch, to smell. I am my own Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory. I am plentiful. Even better, i am enough.

Seated here on the 19th floor, i am balanced and ready to create, to make my days mine and meaningful.
To name it, look It in the eye and say: i am here and I am ready for the Challenge.
Bring it on.

I sit here writing.
Loving.