I’m easy.
I mean if you tell me you will not buy from me, I’m cool with it. I will not pester you or badger you. You will hear the end of it right there and then. Promise.
But (sigh), these are not the traits of a master sales (wo)man, traits that, Robert Kiyosaki assures me, will make me very rich.

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I called my daughter, who was busy playing, and asked her: C, what is money? Eyebrows going up, eyes slightly questioning (as if saying, now where is mom going with this), she says, tongue in cheek, voice bored, “It has a lot of numbers and signs on it.” Okay (sounds about right). I made a follow up question: C, do you know how you can make lots of money? Grinning, she answered, her voice lilting and confident, “I can draw it.”

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I embrace my daughter and soothe her as only my touch can do. I assure her that I am there, fully attentive, this time, to her, learning with her. She smiled and started to lean her head on me. How wonderfully forgiving children are. I started to think – maybe this is my cue, maybe I can again fill up the shoes that I hung on the sill in my quest for me.

Without paid classes, I remember summers being woken by the Cascades and the rhythm of their falling rain, afternoons trying to draw stick figures in elegant dresses, writing about the tree tapping on my window, playing tumbang preso and taguan, singing Eternal Flame (via karaoke, full blast) to my crush next door, and laughter. Lots of it.

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