I have a spot in this new temporary place I moved into a year ago.
I somehow always end up claiming a corner for myself at places where I know I’ll spend some time
that’s just something I do.
So yeah, it doesn’t come as a surprise that I have one here too.
Lately, I’ve been spending most of my time at the dining table.
It’s where I have my chai, work on my assignments, talk to friends or to my parents on the phone
Sometimes I sit on the sofa chair – another of my spots – but that’s for another day.
I like this spot, you know. It faces the windows.
Outside, the trees are turning – some bright yellow, others deep mahogany red.
Fall is upon us – so I am sure they’ll lose their leaves soon.
Actually, I don’t even remember what happens in winter.
Do they just stay bare, or does snow cover them?
I can’t seem to remember it – but I’ll find it out soon enough.
It’s funny – I spend so much time looking out that window,
I thought I’d have noticed by now.
But wait, maybe I’m not really looking at the trees at all.
Maybe my eyes just go distant –
to a past I still haven’t made peace with,
or a future I’m still chasing.
Why do I look outward to think about things that live inside me?
Maybe because the distance helps.
When I look out, I’m not really seeing the trees.
And when I dream, I’m not really looking.
Maybe I’m just… being.
Looking at everything and nothing at the same time.
Anyway – I’m not sure what I was trying to say before I started rambling.
But yes, the dining table.
It’s funny how much of my life happens here –
interviews, potlucks, late-night chai,
case studies, catch-ups, and quiet thoughts.
Across the street there’s a research center –
sometimes I see the lights flicker at odd hours.
That reminds me of another thing I don’t get about people here –
why do most keep their blinds closed?
Is it privacy? Or comfort?
Or just the fact that they just don’t feel the compulsive need to look out –
maybe they’re already at peace with where they are.
As for me, I’m still figuring things out.
And if you’re trying to find me –
well, I’ll be at the dining table.
The Great Perhaps 