Manifest

This morning I stepped into a crowded subway, emerged in a sea of black clothing and expressionless faces. In a wave I spotted a life raft: smile with kind eyes, who made space for me in the middle of the train.  I wondered what about me had caused her to break her New York mask.  My pondering lead to introspection and I saw at myself from a third eye:  

I am wearing a pink dress, teal sweater, turquoise coat, and a green scarf.  My hair is pink, backpack golden, glasses red.  And I entered the subway carrying a honey stick, and picnic basket filled with tamales and plays. 

I might be a tad odd. 

And I love it. 

Perhaps my authenticity (eccentricity) refreshed my little life raft.  A cool breeze gliding over the ocean of similarity.  Maybe she just likes honey sticks.  Whatever it may be, I love it. I love the person I am becoming, and the strange life I will lead.  

My goal is to create and to inspire.  

I want to cause earthquakes, move mountains.  But this morning lead me to realize that on a small but still valuable scale I am already achieving my goals.  And that soft ocean breeze invigorates me. Refreshed, awakened, ready, I plan the next stage of my manifest.