singing in the sunlight

Some days a bird begins singing out the window before dawn. Other days it’s a daylight song.

Yesterday, early, I came upon a most interesting job opportunity, one I’d bring great stuff to, and reached out a couple of times, I believed quite persuasively. Last night I was messaged, “Sorry, this position requires a female. Otherwise you sound amazing.”

Also yesterday I went back to the Amtrak station and found the ticket agent who had talked with me at length a couple of times about the joy I’d find riding the train, and sold me my ticket at a discount, and thanked him for those kindnesses. And told him he was so right, a day of grace and wonder. Previously, like I said I’d do, I’d sent a piece of art to one of the people who donated to the cause, and hand-written letters with doodles to all three who supported me.

Also yesterday I had the interview at the Y for the position of “Member engagement specialist,” which felt like it went alright, and was told they’d be in touch in another week or two.

Today I have my twice-a-month meeting with my Zen teacher in Oakland on Zoom.

Daylight songs.