I get on the bus, not sure if I want to sit. A woman next to me points out an empty seat. New York cares.
A man who’s gotten on with me, starts complaining about having waited for a long time and the woman (and me) respond, listen to him and smile at each other now that we’re part of his life.
I’m filled with this feeling of being at home, being part of the world and we’re all here and we see, hear and feel each other.
(most of the time, Sweden is not quite like that, or maybe not at all :)
Going back home after food shopping (two big bags) and the bus takes so long that I get on one that stops further from where I’m going. I get on and after two stops we all have to get off. No information before getting on!
I give up and decide to walk the rest of the way.
Yes, this is another part of New York. Chaos, no care to inform ahead of time, just deal with it lady.
Middle of September, it’s hot and muggy, freezing AC on the bus and in the restaurant where I meet a friend for lunch.
When we talk I revel in the air being filled with words, feelings, images and this expanded life.
I fall into my American self, feeling so at home.
My American self, where no one wants me to be quieter, less dramatic, more serious or actually wants me to be anything but who I am.
And that goes for everyone. Being me, being you, being anyone and anything.