Things I Am Liking

The jacarandas in bloom, bringing together what was and what is, evening summer walks, and more of what I have been liking.

This is one of my favorite posts on the things I am liking because it feels like summer.

It’s made of simple things, some of which came up suddenly, suggested with enthusiasm, or born out of a moment of boredom in traffic, but that reminded me of old days when I couldn't even dare dreaming of the life I have today.

I love this longer version of The Things I Am Liking because I couldn’t wait to sit down at my desk and write it, even more than share it, which is always a sign of authenticity.

I have always been both an enthusiast, full of passion and ideas, and a complainer, and one of the things I am learning from my daughter is to let enthusiasm take over — leaving the complaining to tiny corners of daily living, corners I don’t have to get around much anyway.

Enjoy, and share with me the things you have been liking.

• The blooming jacarandas in Los Angeles

  

I remember reading Joan Didion for the first time, summer of 2010.

“The smell of jasmine and the pool of blue jacaranda petals”

she wrote in her 1966 novel The Last Thing He Wanted.

I loved Joan Didion from the very first paragraph.

She taught me how to write in English, how to accept my migraines, how to observe, listen, tell my stories in order to live.

I love witnessing the short, intense existence of the jacaranda flowers in Los Angeles (as well as the intoxicating scent of Jasmine at every corner).

I remember walking down on Silver Lake Blvd. to go to an early AA meeting: 8:00 am, Wednesday mornings. I was shy and scared, but when I looked up to see the triumph of purple lining the sidewalks I felt okay, I felt like Joan Didion, I knew I could take whatever came my way.

Yesterday, the day before publishing this installment for Things I Am Liking, I drove along a street in my neighborhood that was lined with jacarandas in bloom. Tom’s Down South was on Tom Petty Radio; I had not heard the song before. I was present, aware of how bright the colors were, of how beautiful that moment was, of how beautiful life is. Same tree, different stages of life, same gift of observing and knowing the deeper story within.

I have always told stories in my head, but Joan Didion made me feel part of the club, and jacarandas will always remind me of her, and of the woman I was meant to become.

Down South

Me: 13, perhaps? About to face reality, about to hate my body and my chubby face, about to survive on stories, until I’d come to Los Angeles, amongst the jacarandas, where I would thrive on them, the stories.