So on most Thursdays I take an hour or two to laze in bed before I get up. I do a little yoga. I take a long shower. I write things and daydream. I go for a walk in my beautiful city, say hi to my many neighbor friends, and perhaps have an impromptu lunch or coffee with one of them I meet. In the afternoon, I dance in the living room. Nina Simone, Parra for Cuva, Black Keys, The National, whatever tickles my toes that day. I take a nap.I love to cook, so Thursday usually involves a lot of kitchen time. Meatballs or something soupy are common favorites. Recently, sometimes while rummaging in the refrigerator, sometimes while chopping vegetables, or sometimes in that moment I open the window to let the afternoon breeze in, I've noticed that -without being aware of it – I'm singing. Sometimes moments like this bring tears to my eyes. I find myself moved by how joyful it is to be alive. To be a woman. To be myself on this day at this time in this place. And sometimes (sometimes even in the very next moment) I get overcome with sadness, and I find myself crying briefly, quietly. I usually don't even know where the pain comes from, or whether it's even mine. But I let it pass through me all the same. All of this while still singing and soaking up the beautiful Tuscan afternoon sunlight that stretches across my kitchen counter.

I think I am most myself on Thursdays. I was born on a Thursday.

Some reactions

• “You seem like a fairy.”
• “You seem like a nice and friendly woman.”
• “It is refreshing to see someone cultivating her own Spirituality.”
• “Hey baby, I wanna f@$& you.”