João woke up in a happy, bubbly mood, which had a domino effect on me – and, who knows, perhaps even a butterfly effect elsewhere. She has a red and blue butterfly tattoo on her right arm (which to her is a symbol of freedom), so this is entirely possible.
I was already happy and calm, and in between her morning ablutions, accepted two small but urgent translation jobs. Such are the vagaries of working for an agency located in a time zone one hour ahead of me. Various jobs continued to dovetail in perfect synchronicity throughout the day, interrupted only my an acupuncture treatment mid-afternoon.
I fell into an incredibly deep sleep during treatment, which was strange because I was not tired at all. It may well have lasted an hour. No dreams. No sense of wanting to escape from reality, or my thoughts, when I unwittingly fell asleep, and no sense of alarm when I awoke. I merely gazed out the window and tried to gauge what time of day it was from the quality of light. I shall endeavour next week to ensure that I do not have to return home immediately to finalise a translation (you know, all that editing of one’s own work one has to do).
What I did rediscover was the sound my soft voice. It is not unlike the one which I hear in my head most of the time; it simply rarely makes an exit into the world out there. It is still echoing back at me. I think I shall take it for a walk more often, and possibly practise it when I speak Portuguese. My voice sounds strange to me when I speak Portuguese. Perhaps I have not yet taken ownership of it. It is time I did so.