Morning Coffee

It’s interesting in the mornings here. There are these birds that sing each morning. It’s like a delicate and wonderful song sometimes mournful and other times uplifting. The notes follow a wonderful scale. Now I sit quietly with morning coffee in my room listening. The days here have turned beautiful again. Already the sun is shining and it promises to be warmer then the last few.

to write notes or not… Not

I gave up on writing notes. I lasted a whole day. I’ve tried before but I think my spirit rebels now at any hint of organization or additional work. It’s definitely not play writing notes. It’s a deliberate effort at creation where my daily journal does not feel at all like that. I decided persistence is not important either. I can write a thought, a memory, a thing in Day One and it’s done. Yay! I can write longer things and they are done. Wow! Do I care in a month that I wrote a thing? Probably not.

back to coffee and morning

So now I have cleansed my system from the desire to write notes in some app or editor that was fruitless and probably doomed from the start. What’s left? Why nothing. There’s nothing left to do. Except hear that song again and the busy Hanoi morning. Drink the coffee and enjoy what things I have. And those I don’t have.

This afternoon I meet some Vietnamese people doing a video on local history in Hanoi. We will talk about living here and what it’s like. They always enjoy talking about America. I am not sure why. Perhaps there is still that dream to go, have a new life, find things there.

Coffee awaits. The bird sings.

Do you smile when you are alone?

March 13, 2021