Update: March 22

During a conversation with a colleague today, I realized that I’m from Pennsylvania, home to Three Mile Island. I was rained on in Europe after Chernobyl in 1986. And I’m here now. Nuclear disaster seems to have an affinity for me. But let’s not read too much into that. It’s oddly comforting that there have been plenty of worldwide disasters that have had nothing to do with me.

I had to go back to work today. On the way to the station, I kept experiencing an absolutely irrational fear of getting on the train. There’s nothing wrong with the trains; there never was. I was also afraid to get back on my bicycle and I was afraid to go back to the gym, but as with the train today, I did those things anyway. Kudos to me. After my meetings, I went outside, looked up and realized I was surrounded by towering office buildings and literally tons of glass. Aha. It wasn’t the trains I was afraid of. I just didn’t want to go back to Shinjuku. (For those who don’t know it, take Times Square and multiply by a thousand.) Then I looked down and saw a little black and white bird of a type I’d never seen before. It had the thinnest, most delicate legs and toes. I stood there watching it hop around until I forgot about all the glass, then went back to the station to go to my next job. Perspective: use it or lose it.

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