It always feels like such a miracle when I’m on a plane for the first time after the holidays–to know that I’ve actually managed to emerge whole and intact from all that fun, but concentrated, togetherness.
No matter how exhausted I am, it’s like I explode out of Christmas.
I am fiercely independent. I always have been.
From the moment I dropped over the edge of my crib to these monthly trips to Provincetown.
Perhaps it was the read-thru yesterday that caused me to wake up with this truth in my head. Or perhaps it was preparing to head off again this morning into the wild blue yonder that was not blue at all today but a thick wet gray. And yes. I realize how lucky I am, not to have to choose one or the other, to have both togetherness and alone time.