I look around and I see symbols everywhere. There’s a table on my back terrace. The horizontal lines are strong. What they mean is up to me.

As the sun continued its journey, I saw something else … my life. Here I am at the very beginning, emerging from my mother in Toronto, Canada:

It’s all bright and beautiful, and strange. “Where am I? What are all these things moving around me? And actually … what is an ‘I’?” It’s all ahead – this life of mine. Wonders and sorrows await.

***

Woh! How did this happen so fast? I’m a teenager, with a face full of acne, hiding away in my room with a wooden spoon as a microphone, lip-syncing as Buddy Holly belts out “Peggy Sue”. Playing cello in the school orchestra is propping up my damaged self-esteem.

I have no idea about the sun shining on a table.

***

I’m 35. Having recently failed as a real estate agent, I’m about to become … a waiter, at a fancy restaurant. At my high school reunion I’m asked if I own the place. “No, I’m a waiter.”

The acne is gone. The wobbling self-esteem lingers.

The sun continues to move over the wood.

***

I’m 74 … as in right now. My body is slower, weaker and fatter. My spirit is wide open – embracing the world. A smile comes easily. I write, empathize, connect, love. I want to sing and play my cello and speak Dutch. I live in Heaven, Belgium … also known as Ghent.

What’s with that sliver of light? Surely the table is wider than this. Or maybe not …

I’ll keep you informed.

***

And then there’s this:

I don’t know what it is

Someday I will find out