Plaza de Juan Pujol Feeling

Sitting here at my table in Plaza de Juan Pujol exploring all the space around me.
Dylan and band playing the Free Trade Hall.
Kerouac and Cassady penetrating into Mexico across the morning desert.
Conversations running with M in Bristol and N in Majadahonda respectively.
Heart in Heaven, head in Hell and in front of me an Aperol spritz.
I've been reading up English grammar and I'm feeling less distant from teaching than I was a few short hours and a Metro ride ago.
I feel like waving my arms around to establish that all this space is really here and not just a figment of my imagination.
Aural, visual, spiritual and physical.
Conceptual, intellectual.
Social.
Freedom, understanding and potential.
Stories, strangers and songs.
How much more filled with humanity and hope could life be when not even death can put a dent in it?
How does it feel?
With no direction home?
Free.
Undeniably alive.