Ten.Two Hundred & Thirty-Four

1. Up before the alarm. Moving around with only the light of my phone, trying to not wake her.  

2. I’m winded by the time I get up the hill to the parking lot where the car is. I blame it on the wedges. 

3. Naomi Shihab Nye is sitting right beside me at breakfast. I want to be talking to her but find myself captivated by conversation with Lucas and Lisa. And they are radiating a tenderness that I find so very compelling.  

4. Palestine.  

5. I don’t know this name and I am not particularly excited to hear him talk until he starts reading haiku and it makes me think of the women in liberated lines and I’m tickled.

6. I’ve never paid attention to America Ferrera before but I will after today. 

7. David Whyte, with his black pants tucked messily into, his slouchy black boots sends us off with a poem. This one I record.

8. I hug Tibeyo because I think he might need it and because there are many others I would hug but I can’t find them and I need to go.  

9. The ride to San Francisco is easy. Traffic on 17, 85 and 101 is light. The sun is shining and I am crying. I’ve cried a little every day since I arrived. Getting here wasn’t easy. Being here wasn’t easy. Leaving is never easy.

10. It’s a good thing I meditated this morning. 

10.1 Airport sushi and an Ichiban. Prompt writing. An aisle seat in the back with another black woman named Alecia. He gives us each two bottles of wine and a snack box for free because he can and he wants to and sometimes that’s what brothers and sisters do for each other.  

10.2 Home.