It’s still the height of summer. Days are warm and sunsets are late. I used to secretly envy people who would go away for the summer. My friend Monica would go on family trips and send me post cards. We never went on family trips when I was growing up. That was a luxury that I never even dreamed about as a kid. But as an adult, I still loved the fictional characters who would go to Cape Cod or the Hamptons to beat the city heat. Somewhere that sounded rich and indulgent where one would lazily spend the day curled up in a loungchair reading some novel. I remember those days as a kid where I would spend in the backyard reading. I guess I’m just nostalgic for those innocent days.

Last few summers, I’ve lived out my fantasy of spending summers away. Two summers ago during the first year of COVID pandemic was in Vermont. In 2022, I traveled to be with my partner in So. Korea where I muddled through the heat, humidity, and a new culture. And this year, I’ve returned to Orange County, a different culture in itself far removed from the Bay Area. It’s not so fun this summer, full of dramas introduced almost every other day. But certainly, it’s been an spiritual exercise, transforming what I believed my character to be. I’m switching up roles constantly and reflecting how each day is teaching me something new. It’s too soon to say how I’m changing. It’s too uncomfortable right now. But I feel my insides being pulled and stretched. Exciting times are ahead. I know because it’s already underfoot.