I was given this assignment by a board member, a fun project reflecting on a poem by Wislawa Szymborska, Possibilities.
I prefer optimism.
I prefer to believe the best.
I prefer to look on the sunny side, though I sometimes prefer overcast skies.
I prefer being cozy.
I prefer the soft scratch of dog toes and the pillowy underbelly of a cat.
I prefer the warm breath of companionship.
I prefer to sometimes be alone.
I prefer mountains.
I prefer the ocean.
I prefer Big Sur over almost any other place.
I prefer the scent of eucalyptus, rosemary, and cedar.
I prefer to love.
I prefer empathy to sympathy.
I prefer to sit in the front row in classes, the back row in concerts, the middle in theatres and busses.
I prefer sweaters and incense.
(In summers, I prefer linen and flowers.)
I prefer that my mind remain changeable.
I prefer being myself.
I prefer a small, quiet room.
I prefer to let myself fill the nooks and crannies, to take up space.
I prefer doing to thinking.
(But I like thinking, too. Sometimes I prefer thinking, either silently or aloud.)
I prefer kindness above everything.
I prefer peace.