Ten.Three Hundred & Eighty-Three
1. Press snooze.
2. Look up and find Mars. The birds are already loud; pre-dawn song. I think back to the way the ranch came alive each morning. Birds and toads and insects all welcoming the day in unison.
3. It's hard to not think about hinging everything on this one potentiality.
4. I ask for tips on how to maintain some sense of sanity for a move like this. I'm talking myself away from the ledge on the regular. The amazing thing is seeing how far I've come in rewriting self-talk. I'm much wiser than I was 10 years ago.
5. Always laundry.
6. I have a 1.5-hour drive ahead of me. I keep the windows down until I get to the highway and then keep the music up really loud. I might be basic—drinking Tangerine La Croix and listening to Paramore. I roll my eyes at myself.
7. The bakery is still shiny and new and French. The cases are filled with delicate and sticky things. I see something with gold leaf. He brings out a blueberry tart that is dotted with chamomile flowers. I see trays lined with proofing linen. I hope they make it.
8. Three old ladies come over the table in the window where I'm standing on chairs and moving plates. "Are you here taking pictures for a magazine?" "Yes, Chicago Reader, a local paper." "They deserve to be in a magazine. Even the water is beautiful!" They're amusing. I buy two baguettes before I leave.
9. I love leaving a job and feeling inspired. I have a large list for tomorrow. Projects that I'm ready to wrap up in order to make space for what is to come.
10. Cool breeze. The sound of the neighbor's sprinklers. We linger until it's almost too dark to read the face of my watch.
Ten.Three Hundred & Fifty-Nine
1. The way the windows are wet with humidity. How tiny beads of water trickle down the glass so slowly. It looks like it will be a hot day.
2. I take the bread out to let it come to room temperature before baking. I think of the way the dough felt in my hands yesterday evening before I rolled it flat. So light and elastic.
3. Today's practice feels hard. I let myself let it be hard and remember that it's just hard today.
4. Today I actually sit down and draw out the maps. I tell him it's hippie moon-centered goal-setting.
5. We snuggle up to watch more Twilight Zone. This is the only way I can take a nap these days.
6. It's a perfect kind of day for the pool: just hot enough in the sun to feel the burn but to not sweat; just enough people to make it feel lively but not overwhelming. The middle one is closer to being able to swim. At least the little one is letting go of the ledge today.
7. The smell of tea tree oil.
8. The tomatoes are overtaking everything. I push away limbs to uncover the rosemary and the thyme. I am a little overwhelmed by the abundance. But I am receiving it.
9. Chianti Classico with Chicken Parmesan.
10. The only thing about a pool day is that it wipes you out.
Ten.Three Hundred & Forty-Seven
1. I decide that I don't want to do yoga this morning. I mean, I probably should, but I know that I don't have to. I just need to rest.
2. Fat robin perched atop the soccer goal.
3. All the white petals on these baby hydrangeas. I was worried that they wouldn't survive because they seemed to have shriveled so quickly after planting last summer. But both of them are so green and the one closest to the door is blooming.
4. He meets me in the alcove and we talk. He sees what I mean about the birds—how close they come to you, how comfortable they feel to dance and chase right in front of my face. It's interesting how my lists also help him to see everything differently too.
5. That feeling of talking face-to-face for the first time. How you get to then hold just a little bit more of a person's essence. We talk about the subjectivity of what one cup of coffee is.
6. I decide that this will indeed be the summer that they learn how to do more. I think about my role as a mother and my hope for my children. I've always said that I want them to be Independent Free Thinkers. Well, we need to work on the independent part. I have the oldest two bring down their clothes and show them how to run the washing machine. I think we all feel a little more empowered.
7. But there really is something pleasing about freshly vacuumed carpet.
8. But why can't I find any affordable dining chairs?
9. This is summer: plastic colored cups strewn about the yard, a stray helmet, a sidewalk full of bicycles, girls running barefoot, boys kicking soccer balls, the weight of the air so thick and humid.
10. So much goodness today. Plant seeds and then harvest. Actually, sometimes you don't really plant them. Sometimes you just scatter or toss them up into the air and then one day poppies rise up to greet you in your wholeness.
Ten.Three Hundred & Forty-Two
1. I skipped yesterday but drag myself down today. I can feel the tightness in my shoulders and in my left quad.
2. How long before they all wake? I want just 30 more minutes to myself before the day begins.
3. Still quiet. The smell of bacon. The whir of the dishwasher. Coffee grinder. Robin chatter.
4. Cleaning Day is really like therapy. It might be one of the few times a week where I am alone and no one wants to bother me which means that I can think all of the thoughts and scrub my way to an answer that feels right.
5. All of a sudden I am yelling.
6. This game of Eye Spy in the car is getting out of hand.
7. There’s time for this. There is always time for this.
8. I forget about the promised treat so we stop at the Mariano’s—gelato for them and a bottle of Barbera d’Asti for me.
9. MYOP Night: Make Your Own Pizza Night. Always a hit but always so much work. Salad with garden spinach. I candy the walnuts and them plus some dried cranberries to the greens. I think about how far I’ve come as a mother and a wife and a cook as a result. I remember that the things that are now the most ordinary and natural are that way because consistent practice.
10. So many robins.
Ten.Three Hundred & Forty-One
1. The color of the sunlight this morning: pale honey dripping from the sky.
2. It actually might be too cold for the pool. Maybe a park today instead. I have no desire to shiver. But the kids really don't care do they? But who wants to wear pants to the pool?
3. I decided to keep this one thing for me.
4. I make a list of 5 things I want to get done today. This feels like not enough and yet too much.
5. First thunder and then the rain. I'm grateful for a slow day inside.
6. The rosebud garland is blowing in the wind. That gentle rustling plus the sound of the rain plus the bird song takes me back to the ranch.
7. I don't realize how thirsty I am until I begin to drink.
8. There are other asks that I am supposed to make that I haven't made yet and I know that this is fear of rejection. I think of how my husband is always telling me that I don't talk about myself enough. That I share my thoughts but I don't talk about my business enough and this is why growth has been slow. That I can't be afraid to ask for the things that I want.
9. I overcooked the salmon and forgot the wine in the beurre rouge. At least I got the risotto and the squash right.
10. Sleep isn't coming so easily this week.
Ten.Three Hundred & Thirty-Nine
1. Just a little bit of mist rising up above the water in the wetlands.
2. This high lunge makes me want to quit but I keep stretching anyway. I really gotta find that yoga mat.
3. Coffee. Banana. More water. Bagels and fruit for them.
4. I play him one-on-one in soccer. We are almost the same height and wear almost the same size shoes. There aren’t many of these kinds of days left.
5. I sit and watch the empty blue sky while they climb.
6. I am startled by a loud fluttering and look up to see the sweetest little hummingbird in front of my face. Good medicine indeed.
7. Chamomile and conversation with her to talk about the things. I have a long list of ideas and confessions I wish to tell her but I’ll save them for later.
8. I think back to this morning’s realization that this feeling of bigness might just be ovulation. That explains the dreams.
9. The way the sky is melting into blues and yellows and oranges.
10. How am I making meaning?
Ten.Three Hundred & Twenty-Four
1. Sundays are my favorite days. And this morning, with its slight chill, and the slowly waking sun feels like Spring.
2. Baked potatoes. I need to start the coffee. First, I drink water.
3. But yes, I think I am going to start them soon. First I need oils.
4. Chicken is dry-brining in the fridge. I lay down with them for a few minutes, my eyes closing. I promised her I'd take her to go get some clothes so I can't really fall asleep. But this right here, sandwiched between the two of them, for only a few moments feels good.
5. She really did need the clothes. I wish I had more time to shop for myself. Just a tiny bit. But all five of us are here and it I just want to get back home.
6. I text him a question and he calls me back and we talk for an hour. He tells me what to buy from Sally's.
7. I've been wanting this Spark Session for a while. I've admired what Lauren does and have gained wisdom from the things she shares on her Instagram. The 75 minutes is fast but just long enough for her to get me to the meat of one of my needs. I need community.
8. The action steps are challenging. By challenging I don't mean impossible, but they definitely will push me out of my comfort zone. What strikes me most is how much asking I will need to do. And I can feel how uncomfortable it's making me. The idea of all of this asking. Asking for leads on jobs, asking for time alone, asking for people to give me or lead me to other resources that will help me grow.
9. He asks me what my exit plan is for this hairstyle. I suppose I can just shave it all off and start over.
10. Someone's car alarm is going off in the distance. I know it's early but it feels late. My armpits are itching and burning; an allergic reaction to the deodorant I think. I need to find something else natural. I haven't been this uncomfortable in a long time. I clean my armpits with soap and water and change my shirt. Just enough relief to ease into sleep.
Ten.Three Hundred & Twenty-Two
1. She’s sitting there eating toast in her robe and glasses and at this moment she seems way older than 8. “I woke up at 5:40. I already made my lunch.”
2. I light palo santo and take a deep breath. This is my new favorite ritual. In the old house I was always lighting incense.
3. The prayer flags from India she sent me are glowing in the soft white light of morning.
4. I write my meal plan and grocery list in the car while I wait for the health foods store to open. I probably could have just ordered tahini from Amazon.
5. This is my last child-free Friday.
6. Pinot Bianco from Slovenia. Beet salad and calamari. A semolina cake with coconut cream and coconut sorbet.
7. I kind of hate this part where he introduces me to all of his co-workers. I mean, it’s great but I sometimes don’t like it. I’d sometimes rather be anonymous. What did Amanda say in the book? I like being seen but I don’t like being looked at.
8. The book store name is rather pedestrian but I’m amazed by the selection. I find two books, a dollar each, and then a set of flash cards for the kids for $5. The younger two will dig them.
9. I write her a letter in the pick-up line while the rain falls.
10. Bath tea. The nettles turned the water the softest shade of green.
Ten.Three Hundred & Eighteen
1. Sky so dark it still looks like night.
2. Tree tops bending in the wind. Flashes of lightning but no thunder.
3. Too much time before they leave. And yet sometimes it’s not enough.
4. Tea and conversation with her where dreams spill out into reality and I have zero doubt and maybe only a few small questions that really seem kind of insignificant.
5. And this is the kind of partnership and collaboration that feels so natural and full of ease that you have to pinch yourself because you’re just too freakin’ excited and giddy with gratitude.
6. Raen Pinot Noir and a turkey burger with fries.
7. Blue-grey sky moving in. So ready fo the next round of storms. I’ve always loved the way Thunder makes you feel small.
8. Ancestors. Roots. Return to the Earth. Trust my own process. Fractals and integration. Tonight is the new moon?
9. Having to have a back up to the back up plan for dinner because you didn't think about travel time for your Brandless box and didn't buy enough protein on your shopping trip. So dinner is almost an hour late but it's good and so it's all ok.
10. But it still doesn't feel right and I have to trust that this is my gut talking not fear. How do I take that feeling from Fever Dreams—that feeling of "oh my goodness, it IS possible to be surrounded by beauty and by beautiful soul-full women and work and earn money"—to non-retreat kinds of work? Like, what does that look like in reality?
Ten.Three Hundred & Six
1. The early light.
2. Granola with flax milk, blackberries and blueberries, and walnuts.
3. Heron medicine: Calm, Grace, Solitude, Patience, Longevity, Versatility, Tranquility, Good Luck, Partnership, Intelligence, Domesticity, Being Present, Determination, Independence, Resourcefulness.
4. The relief and joy from seeing so much green on my baby hydrangeas. I think of the other things I want to grow: Rosemary and basil and iris and tulips and daffodils, and forsythia, and ranunculus, vegetables and fruits.
5. I stop myself from thinking about whether or not we'll be here in 5 years to even enjoy the flowers and the fruit because all that really matters is now. And right now is all that matters.
6. Making plans.
7. Grateful for the slowness of this day. The afternoon is doing a slow melt instead of a fast run and this feels good to me.
8. Are you actively practicing generosity and vulnerability in order to make the connections between you and others clear, open, available, durable? - Emergent Strategy
9. Remembering that it doesn't have to be either/or, that two things can exist at the same time and be in service to each other.
10. Sleep.
Ten.Two Hundred & Ninety-Seven
1. The colors of this morning's sky: peach and lavender and lemon and sky blue. I'm reminded of rainbow sherbet.
2. The blooms from yesterday's floral workshop are so fragrant. I think it might just be the eucalyptus.
3. Waffles toasted in the oven and bacon and coffee. I sit next to the big kid at the island.
4. She’s pouting again because there isn’t any prosciutto.
5. Meal plan + grocery list + grocery shopping + last minute supplies + sunshine + getting to talk to the woman at Michael’s about the retreat.
6. That feeling of almost being knocked over from gratitude.
7. Thought we were out of ink. Turned out we’re out of paper.
8. But the goal is to be in bed before 11 so that I’m not too tired on the plane.
9. He tells me that he’s excited for me and that we’re going to have fun and it feels good and affirming to be seen and loved.
10. Travel jitters.
Ten.Two Hundred & Ninety-Six
1. Slept in just long enough for it to feel good but not like my day has run away from me.
2. Coffee. Fruit Loops with flax milk. I think I like flax milk.
3. This corner of the gray linen sofa and the view from the window across from it. I see that the goose is back. He seems to travel alone and has made the wetlands behind the house his home.
4. On the way in I listen to the On Being episode with angel Kyoto williams and remember that I have half-read her book, Radical Dharma.
5. The shop is basically me boxed into 4 walls: white, green plants, heavy paper stock, Factured Goods brass spoons, succulents in tiny pots, and all the flowers.
6. My nerves quickly dissipate.
7. I layer eucalyptus and roses and some other plants that I can't yet name and wrap them in brown craft paper, tie them with a string. The brightness and slight sweetness of the flowery gin cocktail.
8. The drive home is not too long, but just long enough to tire me.
9. I leave in only 2 sleeps.
10. I needed a day like to day with so much alone time, with the sun, with flowers, with women and light chatter, with being present, with so much feeling like myself.
Ten.Two Hundred & Seventy-Four
1. Usually the morning sky has a way of slowly unfolding itself but today, it's quietly erupting in shades of purple and orange and pink.
2. I'm trying not to be upset about it. Because it's really not his fault and yet it is. But it means that I have to do today alone and it feels unfair.
3. Bacon. Leftover bagels. But they're still sleeping.
4. This morning's method of distraction appears to be searching for pendant lighting.
5. We find him a chiropractor who take him this morning. He's better, but not at his best. He promises that he's not doing to ditch me today. I do feel better with this acknowledgement.
6. Her vision is changing. As long as there is no rapid progression, there is no need to be concerned.
7. You can tell by the way he engages with you that this job, this job that most of us would not want to do, brings him pleasure. He radiates joy, tells us we should go see Black Panther.
8. A Wrinkle In Time.
9. Love is always the answer.
10. A late dinner of chicken noodle soup eaten around the counter.
Ten.Two Hundred & Seventy-Four
1. Usually the morning sky has a way of slowly unfolding itself but today, it's quietly erupting in shades of purple and orange and pink.
2. I'm trying not to be upset about it. Because it's really not his fault and yet it is. But it means that I have to do today alone and it feels unfair.
3. Bacon. Leftover bagels. But they're still sleeping.
4. This morning's method of distraction appears to be searching for pendant lighting.
5. We find him a chiropractor who take him this morning. He's better, but not at his best. He promises that he's not doing to ditch me today. I do feel better with this acknowledgement.
6. Her vision is changing. As long as there is no rapid progression, there is no need to be concerned.
7. You can tell by the way he engages with you that this job, this job that most of us would not want to do, brings him pleasure. He radiates joy, tells us we should go see Black Panther.
8. A Wrinkle In Time.
9. Love is always the answer.
10. A late dinner of chicken noodle soup eaten around the counter.
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.
Ten.Two Hundred & Twenty
1. I am a little late coming downstairs. The light is already here.
2. Light gray. Dusty rose. Pale blue.
3. No one is happy about bacon and toast for breakfast again. I’m also out of sliced cheese. They are killing my vibe.
4. There is not enough coffee to keep me warm.
5. Fever Dreams.
6. The snow is just beginning. I am wishing for basketball to be cancelled. I am wishing for winter to be over.
7. I make him a cheese quesadilla and keep refreshing my email to see if practice will be cancelled.
8. The snow is light but there is still a lot of it.
9. I drive with my hands gripped around the steering wheel. Everyone is moving so slowly. I can’t see the lines in the road.
10. I pull the van in the garage and then get out to shovel again. The neighbors next door are also out. So is the guy three doors down. If I have to be out here, at least I’m not out here alone. The snow is glittering like diamonds.
Ten.Two Hundred & Nineteen
1. I hear the alarm and decide to turn it off and go back to sleep.
2. I can sense the light creeping in to the room. All I want is someone to bring me coffee.
3. He offers to bring me coffee.
4. I eat grapes and drink the coffee and read.
5. “Your will, in other words, is not a manifestation of your character...”
6. The nap was long and luxurious. And so needed.
7. We chat on the phone about me and my work, her and her writing.
8. The light. So much light.
9. The smell of the dough. I dump it onto the counter and watch it spread. I cut it into six triangles and then roll each one into a rope. It is elastic and yeasty and light.
10. It is going to happen. It is going to happen.
Ten.One Hundred & Sixty
1. Jordan Marsh’s blueberry muffin recipe really is the best. I’ve now eaten enough of them to know it without a doubt.
2. I am interrupted 5 minutes into my 10-minute meditation.
3. I throw the cold coffee out of my mug and into the sink. I am feeling unprepared to deal with a child who doesn’t like school. I want it to get better but it doesn’t. And I don’t know how to help.
4. Burnt up log.
5. Robin and I talk. It’s been far too long since we last spoke. But I love how we can just dive right back into co-creation.
6. I had forgotten just how joy-filled Molly is. That one hour with her was so needed and I didn’t even realize it.
7. When you saw a big dream out loud for the first time.
8. Laundry.
9. “1957” by Milo Green. “As” by Stevie Wonder. “The Water” by Feist.
10. Rosé.
Ten.Seventy
1. I wake up before the alarm and then stay in bed after it goes off. The sickness has traveled from the nose into the throat and chest.
2. This morning is layers and light foam and staring out the window over the kitchen sink waiting for the sun to turn the grass gold-green.
3. I complain a lot but really I do prefer the spaciousness of our mornings.
4. I wonder why I care so much about certain things and yet not enough about others. Is it really true that how you do one thing is how you do everything? I don't think it is.
5. I find a spot underneath the tent where I can see all three kids. I am sweating and my nose is still running and occasionally I get up to give a few kids a high five. I'm glad I get to do these kinds of things. I don't want to give up this freedom.
6. I prepare the pot roast for dinner. Her recipe never fails. Brown the onions and the the carrots. Sear the meat on all sides and then deglaze the pan with red wine. (Tonight it's a bottle of Primitivo.) Put everything back into the pan with beef stock and fresh herbs. (I cut generous amounts of rosemary and oregano from the bushes out back.) Stick it in the oven.
7. I play with him in the backyard, a badminton type of game. He keeps asking me to play. I keep saying yes. I keep enjoying it more than I think I will.
8. I want to rest my eyes before dinner but I just keep rehearsing phrases for the workshop.
9. Honey to coat the throat.
10. Who am I?
Ten.Fifty-Nine
1. I want to make an apple crisp because it's a Monday and I think we need comfort food to start the day.
2. I break my no-caffeine streak and make myself a cappuccino. I still have two lunches and two snacks to pack, 7 loads of laundry to fold, and a meeting with a teacher.
3. The one who threw up the night before is still in pajamas and the oldest one is still coughing and wheezing and looks pained. Two kids home sick. I have to take the girl with me to the teacher meeting.
4. I hate to compare, but it's so different. I need to let it be different. I will only make myself more upset by listing all the ways in which it's different, instead of appreciating what's here in front of me. But it's still so different.
5. Errands.
6. I start in on the seven loads and watch last night's Love & Hip-Hop and then The Conjuring. It takes me 2.5 hours to fold it and put it all away.
7. I haven't met her yet but she offers me medicine and I need it, and so I take it and remember that this just might be everything I need it to be if I let it.
8. I'm in the middle of making Chicken Parmesan and the oldest comes down to tell us he doesn't feel well. That he's going to throw up. I pull the trash bin out of the drawer and bring it to his chin just in time, dusting the underside of his face with flour.
9. Sick day number two tomorrow.
10. This is all that got done today. I am salty because I didn't even get to eat any of the apple crisp. I didn't get to edit the photos. Which means I didn't write the blog post. In my down time I ate leftover Greek salad and pita chips, drank tea and water, rubbed essential oils on my chest and took a mucinex, wondered how we're supposed to do all of this. Wondered how I get to do all of this.
10.1 I am out of sleepy time tea and settle instead for very-hot-water with lemon and honey. I catch the last bits of sunset. Orange and gray and faded blue denim. I sometimes cannot handle all of the beauty and the pain.