This past week I've had the great pleasure and privilege of visiting my dear friend Natalia in Mexico City. Her parents have graciously opened up their home to me and let me join in on their family day-to-day, from taking daily morning walks to their favourite cafes in Coyoacan, to having home-cooked meals together and sitting around the table in the kitchen eating late-night taquitos and esquites. (Yes, much of our time together has revolved around food…!) It's been such a special visit and satiating on many accounts, I must add—including in terms of my writing life and creative process.
Each morning, whether on the days I was working remote or the days I had off, I’ve dedicated an hour or two to work on my memoir. I'm now making my way through the last of my mentor Ayelet’s in-line notes and the book is reaching a crescendo of sorts. It's making sense. I can see where I've gone with it. I've got something. It has a shape.
The last pages are still a mystery to me though. It's far from being crystal clear in its entirety but I feel like I have it, somewhere in the ether, and it's waiting for me to take hold of it and take it down.
For a long time I’ve imagined myself plowing past the finish line with greedy gusto. Yet I'm feeling a slow steadiness taking over, now that I’ve made it this far. In one part, I'm savouring the finish, letting the final words drip through me with precision. Another part of me wants to slow down because there is more work to do, still—another reading of it from start to finish, another round of tightening the text. It's laborious and 300+ pages is daunting when I think about it…
So for now, whatever the reason for this newfound rhythm, as I take short dips into my manuscript each day, I'm enjoying the feeling I get every morning when I wake up early here, like an inevitable tide is returning: A steady rising of pressure that I release in my chair one sentence at a time until I feel at peace and can return to exploring beautiful Mexico City with a very different kind of energy.



Who’s to say what the final sentence will be and whether I'll know it when I’ve written it. But I'm okay with that. As I've said, there's more work to come; but until the next phase begins, I'm enjoying this ebb and flow in energies, between writing quietly at a new table with a new view in a faraway land, and the excitement and physical tiredness that comes from walking my feet off through markets and taking in the sights and sounds of Day of the Dead celebrations, which all remind me that all good things come to an end, just as they yield new beginnings…
Hasta la próxima,
Vish


What a lovely rhythm you have created in this little piece of your life. Wishing you a rewarding final push towards completion