Leapdragon 2016 - Aron Hsiao Was Here

saturday morning (again)  §

Early Saturday morning. I’m the only one in the building awake, I swear. The whole place is utterly silent and utterly empty, but nice and bright and well-lit thanks to the sunlight streaming in through all the windows.

At times like this I always feel tremendously optimistic for some reason. Not only does it feel as though the whole virgin day stretches invitingly in front of me—it also always feels like there are no limits to what can be accomplished. I convince myself that this day, unlike all those other days, will see the completion of all the things I’ve been meaning to do in my recent life, and perhaps even that on this day important things that will happen that will really mark the beginning of the rest of my life.

Of course that’s before I reach 3.00 or 4.00 pm (or sometimes even just noon) and realize that this day is disappointingly like any other.

Still, the sensation is not easy to ignore or dismiss. I just wish I knew or understood what it was actually trying to tell me to do. Join a Buddhist monastery? Buy tickets to Berlin on a whim? Take a train to Maine?

I suppose one of these mornings I’ll find out.

Yesterday saw snow in New York for the first time this season. Maybe that’s why I decided to walk home from work, 100 blocks from the low edge of the flatiron district to the top reaches of Morningside Heights along Broadway. The walk was cold and strange at first, but it quickly took on a sensation all its own, leading me past Madison Square Garden and Penn Station, through Times Square, halfway around the Columbus Circle and Central Park, past Lincoln Center, and past Columbia as well, all in the dark, with snow swirling around me.

It took me a couple hours, but with the snow and the evening lights of the city it was absolutely beautiful, one of the nicest evenings I’ve had since I got here in September.

Back to Saturday Morning.

I just realized that class starts next week and that I’ll soon see all of the school people again. It’s a strange thought somehow, as though I’ve been unexpectedly told that characters are to be jumping out at me from a (formerly) fictional storybook in a few short hours and I should prepare myself for the spectacle.

Am I prepared? Who knows.