Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Seventy-Two
Earlier and earlier each day.
I think of his comments about the wild animals, but push them out of my mind. I know this route. I’ll be just fine.
Quick texts to let them know you haven’t forgotten about them.
All will be well enough.
I take my phone meeting outside for my walk and manage to get in my mile while the breeze runs through my hair.
Dusty picnic table.
A little bit of Krug.
Hitting send on the final assignment for spring and then realizing you have only two weeks before your next class begins.
The timing is just not going to work.
When the dreams persist, you just trust that they’ll manifest when you’re ready.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Seventy-One
Wind.
Bits of trees scattered across the pavement and the trail. The sound of the redwoods blowing in the gusts.
118 beats per minute. I’m just drinking water.
Just one paper to go.
She says that she wants to travel over the summer, but she’s afraid they won’t let her back in.
I need more time; there is never enough time.
All of this feels right.
The last of the meetings.
I ought to meditate again.
“Starve doubt.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Sixty-Eight
From the top of the hill I see nothing but silhouettes of trees stacked in
No idea what this plant is, but the bloom is awfully pretty.
Please, sun. Come out today.
Instead of listening to a book on my walk break, I read a document so I’m prepared for the next meeting. But it is only four pages long, which gives me almost four minutes to walk and think of nothing but the sun.
The longer it goes on, the less I like it.
One quiz, one test, and two short papers to go.
These leftover roses from prom keep on giving.
She may look like me and sound like me, but she’s definitely funnier than me.
In this way, he and I are the same: having difficulties saying what it is that we want.
“You become whatever you’re striving for. Your goal shapes your process. Your goal also shapes your personal development and evolution.” — 10x Is Easier Than 2x
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Sixty-Seven
Another misty morning.
Reverse the route.
Walking without contacts means that every squirrel on the road looks like a large rock.
I stop and get decaf because I know there is never any at these kinds of meetings.
All my notes are about basketball.
Food truck day.
Why does it have to be so hard?
But, it’s a front, right?
Win number 2!
“I can. I will. I am.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Sixty-Two
So cold this morning.
But this workout is making me sweat.
I find the black jeans in her drawer and bring them upstairs to iron for myself.
Today is the fashion show.
Not our circus, not our monkeys. We just come to the tent.
Sushi roll in the parking lot with the windows up while buy a plane ticket.
These days really are my favorite days. And if you can remember that you will have days like this, then you can make it through.
Flowers blowing in the breeze.
I tell them that I love seeing these other sides of the kids…to see another expression of who they are is just the coolest.
Learner. Deliberative. Achiever. Intellection. Individualization.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Fifty-Nine
Time to wake up.
So cold for yoga this morning. Should have started that fire.
He says no to the stuffed animals, but I manage to find a few tiny chocolate bunnies.
Begin the focaccia. Begin the mac and cheese. Make an apple crisp.
Hammock and sun. Already wishing for one more day.
Better, but also not.
What would happen if I just ignored this?
Two helpings.
“Who do you want to be known as?”
Eventually, it will all make sense.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Fifty-Seven
Rest.
I emerge from the shower much, much later than usual. A warm glow in the living room. Quiet.
“You’re not stuck; you’re misaligned.”
I check off the boxes. I feel like a lily in the ocean. These waters are unfamiliar and unwelcome. Where are my still waters?
Speed cleaning before it’s time to leave for her softball game.
A woman who cuts her hair is a woman who is about to change her life. Or who is experiencing hormonal and stress-related thinning?
Perfect weather for sitting in the stands; moderate temperature, a clear and sunny sky, and a light breeze.
I see him warming up in the bullpen on my way back from the bathroom. He only needs three outs.
Headaches.
Wonton soup before bed.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Fifty-Three
Morning light.
Water. Lots more water.
Tacos and sun and silence.
“Say ‘Bye tio’.”
Rehearsing my explanation for the next email thread.
Girls just want to have fun.
17 going on 13.
Funny how when the power goes out it’s like a snow day and suddenly, none of the rules apply.
I leave the two of them downstairs with their small TV and makeshift beds on the sofa, then light a few candles and take them upstairs to add a glow to the bathroom.
He thinks of it as a way of holding him.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Forty-Nine
These weights are heavy. My breathing is loud.
Deep sigh.
Several cups of decaf coffee and probably not enough water.
A campus tour is never as good as it could be when it’s cloudy. But still, not a bad place. Lots of trees. A rock-climbing wall.
We let the two of them walk ahead, side-by-side. They’re talking. Who knows what it’s about, but it doesn’t really matter.
They tell us that our order isn’t ready, and I turn around and say I’m sure it’s not when one car orders 50 nuggets.
Who is not saying the thing?
It’s always about managing up.
He brings it up again, and my feelings about it all resurface once more.
Carrot cake and a cup of decaf.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Forty-Seven
Another day to hit the snooze.
Stronger than yesterday.
I zoom in with my camera phone to realize that it’s just an orange cat, a tabby, grooming itself in the morning sun.
I forgot my bag again…this time, the one with the food.
Time is creeping by in this agenda-less meeting. Folding my hands behind my head. Eating cut pineapple because I can’t get more angry. Trying to fix my energy.
I remember that I have tomorrow off, and that brings a little bit of peace.
I wish I were better at faking it. Or do I?
If you can’t laugh, what are you even doing?
What does unreasonable hospitality look like in this situation?
So many ideas and never enough time.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Forty-Five
Steely Dan and windy roads.
Looking up, all I see is sunlight and cobwebs and dirty windows.
But the whole point of this is to breathe.
But a blowout? I didn’t think it would be a blowout.
Man, I miss basketball.
Writing morning pages in the afternoon. Wrapped in sunshine. Hummingbird fluttering in front of my face. Butterfly floating by the trees.
Pray for peace and ease. Insight and courage and discipline. Trust and surrender.
Too much seaweed.
Well. When you don’t practice for a week…
Burnt in the center, but just enough around the edges of the pan for the three of us to make a meal.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Forty-Four
Better today than yesterday.
Alternating hot water with lemon and small cups of decaf while I finish the work.
Seeing the possibility of what it could be.
Coffee on the deck. No sweater needed. Loud birds. Tall trees. Wishing I could have taken the entire week off to be home with them. Maybe there’s another way to make the most of it.
A rebirth.
There is something oddly ironic about them having a copy of “Unreasonable Hospitality” on the hostess stand when there is no hostess.
Trays full of espresso martinis, and it’s just barely noon.
Books and a chair outside in the sun. Thank goodness.
The schedule is almost done. It will be here before I know it. But I can’t wait.
Make a list, or else you’ll forget.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Forty-Three
Up before the alarm.
That feeling you get when you curl back up under the sheets and concentrate all your warmth.
First, coaching.
What is within your control? Right. Those words sound familiar.
Then, therapy. “You need a break,” she says. “Can you get out in nature?” “I live in nature.”
Two down, two to go.
Assume the best intentions anyway.
The gift of walking around in a quiet, clean house.
Just don’t look in the refrigerator.
Maybe next year.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Forty-Two
What’s changed?
Watching the color of the sky change from deep blue to watery orange and pink and the lush green of the hillsides and the trees.
I promise myself that I will get outside during the workday and will not eat my lunch at my desk.
Sunlight.
Little fires everywhere keeping me from the actual work. And actual work keeping me from being great.
Best laid plans.
Autonomy.
I look down at my ankles and realize they have doubled in size. I think I need to sit more often now.
More and more articles about internal tremors of long-haulers. No one seems to understand what I mean by the random full-body vibrations. Shaking on the inside, but steady on the outside.
There are three kinds of self-talk: positive, negative, and neutral. “… is often instructional…movements, strategies, or tactics.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Forty-One
4:45 a.m.
That whirring sound. Must be vineyard fans blowing. It’s that time of year again.
The day feels so spacious with only one drop off and all the sun spilling into the room.
The day is full of sidequests.
The usual. Chicken Tikka Masala — mild.
It does feel way longer than a year.
A squirrel sitting on its hind legs, nibbling on something, while staring out at the street.
Do fewer things.
What’s in a name?
Is it true?
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Forty
Everything is so wet.
The sound of water gushing from beneath the sink.
I really don’t like April Fool’s.
Belly-shirt guy.
“Intention means every decision, from the most obviously significant to the seemingly mundane, matters.” - Will Guidar, Unreasonable Hospitality
Trying not to care is almost impossible.
Assuming a lot of things these days, and it’s leading to a lot of confusion.
Moving the Post-its from the purse to the downstairs desk to the upstairs desk.
In the video, he (Adam Grant) says that a contribution journal is more effective than a gratitude journal. A gratitude journal is a reflection of what’s been given to you; when you think about what you’ve given to others, it’s a more motivating and more rewarding feeling.
In the end, I decide to stay home, skip the cold, wet game, and eat popcorn while I do homework.
87 days.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Thirty-Nine
You can do it.
“…how to sustainably create valuable things…”
Do you have enough autonomy to experiment with slowing down time?
Waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And then waiting some more.
An unexpected wash of sunshine.
When you’re here in real time, you can see the gaps.
What is required is discipline.
I really wish he would tell them that it’s called the elbow. It’s not the corner.
Honey chipotle tacos with black beans, cotija, cilantro, and pickled onions.
87 days.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Thirty-Eight
Rain on the roof. Slow moving.
Burning the last of the logs. Toes wiggling closer to the fire for warmth. Hot tea to keep the hands warm.
Another 600 words written in addition to yesterday’s 800. Strengths and areas of improvement. It feels like only one thing holding me back; but surely it’s not just the one thing.
A bowl of popcorn and some sparkling water before a nap. “Alfred Hitchcock Presents” playing quietly in the background.
She followed through.
Constricted.
Waiting for the cancellation.
He says something about the Christmas on the back deck. The important thing is just that it’s out of the house. I just needed to get it out of the house.
Only three of us for dinner on a Sunday night. “Low key” being used to start every other story.
I didn’t get around to the Post-its.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Thirty-Seven
Heading toward the city in the dark.
He tells us they will not give a companion pass for us to escort her through security. She seems a bit shocked at first, but says she’ll be just fine. I explain that it’s her first time alone. Still, no. A quick verbal list of instructions as she gets in line.
Sunrise over the bay waters as we travel back to the valley.
There’s this moment when the landscape shifts, just after you pass Don Giovanni and Ashes & Diamonds, where you feel you’re about to enter another realm. That’s the magic of the upper valley.
Avocado, olive oil. a sprinkle of sea salt.
Morning pages in the chair overlooking trees, tips golden from the morning sun.
I’d rather not guess.
These refs clearly don’t want to be in this gym.
He shows me the fish he caught—one very small, one rather large. He’s clearly very proud of himself.
I hear his coach call his name. He runs in from the outfield to take the mound. “Oh, boy,” we say in unison.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Thirty-Five
The sound of the rain.
Will I really miss two days in a row?
The mind and body are in opposition.
More voices than usual in the room, but it adds another kind of energy, a liveliness that is welcome on a day like today.
Nothing but gray skies.
When you get what you wanted, but not exactly.
One degree of separation.
Bourbon Maple Walnut fudge.
Maple-miso glazed chicken and Brussels sprouts. Some baby potatoes added to bulk it up.
“The highest form of freedom is based on want, not need. Choosing what yo want takes radical honesty, commitment, and courage.”