I'm mid-packing and the dust allergies are kicking up.
Last night's going-away party was just lovely. An assortment of people from various sectors of my life. Activism, theater, work, Yiddishkeit, college, neighborhood. Prosecco, grilled croissants and peaches, and veg-pigs-in-blankets. Etc.
I got to thinking about how everyone's on a trajectory through life all the time. Of course the usual thing is to imagine oneself as the protagonist of existence: all of you are players in the movie of my life, some costars and supporting, some uncredited extra or maybe you can hope for "Girl with Headphones #2" if the exec producer (B"H) feels generous. As I grow closely interwoven with so many beautiful amazing people, though, the ego's-eye-view starts to melt and I have a wider, meltier picture of many overlapping movies, paths plans importances parties hopes loves beginnings changes. In my head I saw the extended cast of my people as if jets in the sky, contrails arcing towards and away from each other, blurring and fading somewheres and otherwheres persisting long after the aircrafts' passage.
For example: today's the 40th birthday of my ex, with whom at one point I thought I'd spend my life. He wanted to be a father by the age of 40, and my un-readiness ended our relationship. We don't even talk now. Sad.
Zoe and Ken's baby was born yesterday morning. A new small person in this big world. I can't wait to meet him, even as I'm heading out of town.