If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

I think
I am
where
I’m
meant
to be

And yet, a conversation today (as I’m writing this) brought me to forego closing down the question, even if in a satisfying way. I mentioned before, that I missed the first performance of the Seattle Center Classical Music Fest due to a happenstance, and here’s my chance to tell that story.

But first, I have to tell you that about a week ago, I met a woman who was moving to Italy, a la Under the Tuscan Sun. Neither of us mentioned the film during the conversation, but what was so beautiful about our talk was encapsulated in the moment she looked into my eyes with what I’ll call a deep glimmer and said “I knew I had one more adventure in me.”

Only then did I share my own recent leap. For this woman it had all been serendipitous, eventually meeting someone while on a preliminary scouting trip, who knew of a just-opened-up place that was everything she wished for. She had waited to bury her mother and aunt, caring for them before she passed, and now was envisioning the rest of her life in new ways.

I’ve thought about our conversation a lot since it took place, but really just that daring, somewhat mischievous and brave feeling she conveyed, and how genuinely excited I felt for her.

Well, today ~ I arrived to the field and stage at Seattle Center – a little early as I always am – and found a nice spot on a bench in the shade where I could see clearly, but also be out of the way of some kids playing ball. People watching and listening to the audio-book of Four Thousand Weeks for about the four thousandth time, I pondered how easy it had been to be in the middle of everything, all the way from north of Seattle in Lynnwood.

The rail is really a marvel and something I don’t take for granted.

Then I hear, “Is this seat taken?”

I answer “Not at all”, looking back to see a rather tall and well-composed woman with whom I exchange a few small talk comments about how lucky we are to find such a great spot. We’re both looking forward to the concerts, but someone must be running late, because there’s no sign of anyone setting up on stage.

Still, the field is filling, so we don’t think much of it.

She tells me she’s not at all anti-social and that if I’d like to talk, that would be fine, that she’s going to take out her book, but it isn’t meant to shut down conversation. I tell her not to worry, that to be honest nothing really comes to mind, and I try hard to read the title of her book, but don’t ask. I consider how honest and charming of a thing to say that was.

She reads, and I watch people in the field. Someone is blowing bubbles.

Until it’s been about a half hour. We exchange a few hms and crinkled eyebrows. It no longer seems as easy to read her book, so we chat again, but this time with much more energy. I misunderstand that she always lived in Seattle, which leads to my learning that she’s lived so many places, moving about every three years!

G’s true love is London, which she describes with magic-type love, like I describe Kyoto. We’re both the type to wander around and not come back with a list of things we’ve seen from the ‘Mustn’t Miss’ travel guides, instead taking in gardens and small discoveries along the way. I describe encountering a giant lotus for the first time, behind a simple looking fence at a small nondescript temple. She describes the way the galleries are free and music is playing all over the city, concerts like this one will be…

You can tell that she is restless again, and not sure how much longer she’ll stay where she’s living now, about the fourth neighborhood she’s lived in, in Seattle alone. But, she says she has been buying more things; it wouldn’t be as easy to move again.

About an hour in, a loud radio comes on with a peculiar song about dreaming of America and promising to assimilate. It’s just too strange a way to begin a classic music fest, but we are still sitting there, three songs in, until a big screen on stage begins the soccer intro! She’s been watching other games with her nephew, enjoying the loud “Goooooooool” that makes me nostalgic for Miami, where during the season, soccer was on TV everywhere. But neither of us had come for Mexico, this time.

We realize we’re in the wrong spot, as you may have guessed. 🙂

She heads off for lunch after we check the location and see we’re just around the corner from the correct field. And though I think of inviting myself along, also think the company has been just perfect, so why force anything?

“Maybe see you there” she says.

And of course I found that song!! “U.S.A.” by Dubioza Kolektiv