I can smell myself.  The putrid formaldehyde of change wafts from my pores and into my nostrils igniting an emotional anaphylaxis.

The food in Seattle is different.  It’s healthier.  It’s cheaper to buy organic here than anywhere I’ve ever lived. It’s cheaper to buy organic than to buy unhealthy preservative infested goods. I eat healthier. I live healthier.

I walk or bike to all destinations. As a result, I need to allot more time for travel and less time for preparation of the meals I love.  So, I don’t eat much.  One day I had a banana for breakfast, Craisins for lunch, came home that evening and sautéed a red pepper with onions and ate it in a tortilla shell.

I haven’t touched fast food in over two months.  I think my body recognizes that and is releasing the residual toxins from my internal holding cell.  I don’t have the emotional burdens I once did.  My life is stress free — for the most part.  I don’t have to strain myself in order to interact with others.  Before, I had to work so hard to maintain external peace that my internal peace laid within a  shaded corner of me paralyzed and corroded.  Now, my peace is so alive I laugh as I walk down increasingly familiar streets.  My life is so void of turmoil its almost as if I don’t know how to behave.  I laugh at inopportune times and I smile at everyone I see.

Seattle has made me naked.  I feel things as they truly are and not through a lens of pain.  I bike and I sweat. When I sweat I am clean.  That sweat evaporates from my skin and leaves a bit of itself.  When I shower it washes away. Rinse and repeat.  I’m so unaccustomed to simplicity I am restless. I have awakened the laid-back(ness ) in me.  Perhaps this peace is born of the newness of now.  Perhaps it will go away once the shiny cover of Seattle is gone and I have grown familiar with this place.  Perhaps, but not necessarily.