Hello, Friends
My daughter was with her mother this weekend, so the apartment felt like a stage after the actors leave.
Not lonely. Just hollow in a way the walls already know.
The night before, I had visited a friend. We drank a little wine, talked the usual nonsense, and I came home late. I slept longer than I meant to. The kind of sleep where you wake up blurred around the edges.
I stumbled into the kitchen to make coffee. I wasn’t awake yet, not really.
And there they were.
Three flies, circling in the middle of the room like a miniature weather system.
A tiny cyclone with wings.
Before I understood what I was doing, I heard myself say it.
Just like that. No build up. No thought.
The line slipped out as if it had been waiting somewhere behind my teeth.
It surprised me.
It is strange when your mouth reveals more about you than your mind intends.
There is a trick people use when they want to know if someone actually likes them.
You surprise them when they don’t expect it. A jump-scare for the soul.
If the person likes you, the reaction is warmth.
If they don’t, the mask cracks.
You can do the same thing with yourself.
Catch yourself off guard.
See who speaks before you have time to choose the right lines.
See what version of you appears when the mind is still half asleep.
Check who really shows up.
People talk endlessly about authenticity, as if it is something you can rehearse.
But the truth leaks out in moments like this.
Not in Bali retreats.
Not in grand decisions.
Not in public performances.
In the small, accidental fragments of a morning.
Then Lido appeared.
She walked in slowly, the 15 year old Bangkok street cat who has watched me through every season of my life. She sat down and stared at me with that expression only cats have, the one that says:
You did what?
You talk to flies now?
She watched.
Then she came closer.
Animals always know who you are.
But people spend entire lives searching for who they are.
They buy books.
They chase gurus.
They empty self-help shelves.
But sometimes the answer arrives in a kitchen with no witnesses.
It arrives before you can hide.
If you want to know who you are, surprise yourself.
See what happens.