Its hard to say what it is I see in you.

The sun has finally come out in Toronto for THREE days in a row! AND they even happened on a weekend. I do better in sunshine. I love feeling tan, or at least a little bit darker.

My ankle is healing so much faster than I thought it would, but it still looks like a grandma with diabetes foot by the end of the day.

Here's a list of things that I find hard to do:

1. write honestly when I know people are actually reading what I say. That being said, I think its important that I don't post things I wouldn't want someone to read (which has happened, and exploded terribly all over the end of one summer, even though I still stand by what I said).
2. talk about feelings (especially ambiguous ones)
3. buy good gifts for my mom
4. get out of the house on a Sunday
5. e-mail friends of friends (even if the connection is already made)
6. get to church on a Sunday (especially alone)
7. talk through negative things, but stay optimistic about the big picture
8. engage with residents who are my companions on the weekend
9. take time for myself, and then return at full force
10. commit fully to the present here, when I know I'm leaving in a few months. 

but when the sun is shining, it so much easier to trust that it will all work out in the end. So much easier to realize I have so much more than enough here.

Today I spent mostly waiting for a doctor in various waiting rooms, because a thirteen year old companion of mine broke their foot playing soccer on Friday. Separately, I also had physiotherapy for my own ankle at the hospital we ended up in the emergency room of later. I got back from the hospital at 7pm (where at the end of the day, they had done nothing for this kid, except give us a 7am appointment the next morning in the Fracture Clinic). Then I ate a bit of dinner, and sat in the rooftop garden with two interns. We talked a bit, which is always therapeutic, but mostly we just WERE. Sitting with our faces towards the setting sun, together, and then my soul is replenished.

After they left, I weeded the garden a bit, and did some physio excercises on the trampoline up there. 

I am thankful to be here. It is good to be here. Even when I am exhausted and frustrated and really hungry in a waiting room. Even when residents are complete and total bitches to our faces or behind our backs. Even when nothing happens the way it was said in the morning meeting. 

It is good to live with people. It is not good to be alone.

It is good to hear a happy girl clapping and singing early in the morning. and to hear loud shouts of GOOOOOAAALLLL!!!

It is good to bike from house to house, and to connect people who need help with those who can provide it. Its even better to facilitate the beginning of friendships.

It is good to walk in your neighborhood, or local park, to nap in the grass, and to hear a young girl say to her mother "but mommy.... where are you going? its so BEAUtiful here...."

It is good to finally get exercise, to have your heart pump before your ankle throbs.

It is good to be single. To be free and open and perfectly complete. To have no worries of babies or pregnancy. 

It is good to be surrounded by interns. and then surrounded by adoptive aunties, mothers, sisters, friends. To trust and be trusted with each others lives, stories, children. 

(i who have died am alive again today,and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birthday of life and of love and wings: and of the gaygreat happening illimitably earth)
-ee cummings

"Go ahead and live your life.You might be surprised. The world might continue."-Gwendolyn Brooks