Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy-Seven
Watching the morning light fill the room.
I read my brother’s post, and remember that he also used to write poetry. It’s a sweet, sweet reflection.
Thick socks.
Blue sky and green hills studded with mustard. A scenic drive is always good for the soul.
I feel a swell of gratitude and text to let them know how much I appreciate them. None of this would have been possible without them.
He is always so much more talkative on these Sunday afternoons and that’s how you know he’s feeling good about himself.
Still not sure how any of this is going to work out. But it will. It will?
This little mentor group always gets me so excited.
I tell them they can think big, no limits. But they say no cruises. “Noravirus. I’m not getting sick.” “Stable governments.” “There are no stable governments.”
Sunday Scaries.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy-Six
I don’t think I’ve heard the alarm yet. I take a look at the phone. No. It’s not time.
Yoga instead of weights today - a good day.
A stop at Sunshine after drop off because sometimes you just want a drip coffee.
I tell her that I am just trying to get back to having a routine that makes me feel good.
Nerds candy.
I’m late to our lunch of tacos in the park. It is picture-perfect outside. People are trying to play pickleball, and another guy at a table is eating lunch with a small dog sitting beside him quietly.
I see what’s happening here, and I don’t think I like it.
It’s hard not to think of the fires. It’s hard not to think of your own experience of the fires. It’s hard not to think about what you would do if it happened to you again.
Just can’t do it, can you?
Sometimes, soup is all you need.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy-Five
Work.
Bright sunshine and warm air on this Wednesday morning. Realizing that fires are more significant than I thought.
There are so many piles of clothes on the sofa.
I decide to stay in my jeans anyway because, well, I’m just more comfortable this way.
Processes.
Are three beverages too much for a 2-hour meeting? I don’t think so.
She asks me how I do it. I tell her I make it a priority; it’s just for a short time, really. And thankfully, people seem to be supportive of letting me continue with it.
Antelope = Action.
I walk in and see not just one, but three of them working. This is good. This is very good.
I hope they will get it. I hope they will understand that this is something different but just as important. Intangibles that create tangible results.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy-Four
Still adjusting to being beholden to the alarm clock again.
Game day.
I burn the remaining wishes and pull cards until there is just one more wish left. I unfold the slim piece of paper to read it and laugh to myself because it is one of my biggest wishes. But it’s not impossible.
We talk about going back. Could we go back now that this one thing has changed? So many things would have to change, wouldn’t they? But we just miss the people.
Well. That was weird.
Disappointed but not surprised.
Grocery store hugs.
She asks me about my day at work. I tell her that two people have quit and another is about to go on leave, so it’s just an interesting time. It’s an interesting time.
All of a sudden, nerves. Like it’s my very first game. What an odd feeling.
One of the more significant deficits of the season. But the gap didn’t seem that wide. But also, it was big.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy-Three
Monday.
Decaf in my new little ceramic tumbler that I bought from the odd little gallery and shop on the wharf. Reminds me of my dream of living on the coast making pottery. And based on all of the ceramics I saw, that is not an uncommon dream.
I rinse the grapes and pull them off the stem, one by one. I know what it is: I like being home. I like making breakfast. I like getting my laundry done. I like looking through the window at the trees. I like having my own bathroom.
Par for the course.
These tight quads will be the death of me.
Eight-word mantra.
You can let it be easy.
Is that really 70 degrees I see in the forecast?
He asks me how practice was. “Fun,” I say. Fun for me, not sure how much fun it was for them. “But they felt present.” Being present is good.
Those glances.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy-Two
Awakening to the sounds of someone rustling around in my bedroom.
Too early to be this upset about things like this.
Doing the things you don’t want to do, like cleaning the toilets.
The use of the word “tired” to cover a wide range of feelings like anger, annoyance, frustration, anxiety, depression, confusion.
I blame this stomachache on the cup of bisque and the three large scoops of ice cream.
I do not know the source of all this soreness, but I’ll blame the hotel bed and the hours spent sitting on wooden bleachers.
He can tell through the camera that the Christmas tree has not been watered in quite some time.
The little things become the big things.
Thumbs up on the chilaquiles.
Lead with joy. Take bold action. Embrace softness.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy-One
A rumbling stomach upon awakening.
A thin sliver of pale gold light. I suggest the donut shop for a pastry and a coffee.
Everything is glistening in the morning sun.
Maple. Mexican Hot Chocolate. Choco Coffee. Cinnamon Sugar Apple Cake. A large decaf Americano.
We make our way down the path toward the water. Out the corner of my eye are three children in bathing suits who clearly intend to get into the frigid water. Why not?
Thunderous waves. The red-brown of the rock. Trees shaped by coastal winds. Tiny waterfalls. Here, the dirt is full of crushed oyster shells. Over there, hard chunks of white rock.
As we walk, he entertains my daydreams of running a bed and breakfast. “I’ve had this dream since high school,” I say. “No joke.”
I walk over and see an almost intact abalone shell and an oyster shell larger than my hand.
Ahi poke bowl, oysters, a cup of crab bisque, and a few glasses of Husch Sauvignon Blanc.
Actually. Yes. I could live here.
The loudest we’ve been. The hardest my hands have hurt. Is there such a thing as a thrilling loss? As an adult with perspective, you understand that it’s not the end of things, but as the one who thinks they failed their team, it is indeed the end of things. As an adult, you understand that growth only happens from failure. New visions, new beliefs, new actions = new you.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Seventy
Room darkening curtains for the win.
Soft water.
One glass of orange juice, one cup of decaf, and half a Belgian waffle with powdered sugar, butter, and syrup. Still cold. Still damp.
I purchased an overpriced computer charger and another cup of coffee to go.
What I want is the beach, but it is raining, so I will have to wait.
It’s warmer in the gym and less humid than the day before. We pick our seats for the day. I watch the games and work until the battery dies, decide there is no need to continue.
If I could go back, would I? I would only do so because I miss the people.
In just 36 hours, I’ve learned new things about myself and remembered old things about myself, and this is why it’s important to get out of the places that are so comfortable for you. Growth and insight happen at the edges.
Black sky. The sliver of light from the waxing moon. Faces illuminated by the flames. The sound of the water crashing onto the shore.
I tell him that I think, sometimes, because I seem to be comfortable navigating spaces and conversations, that people forget that I am still Black.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Sixty-Nine
If I don’t do it, I will think about it for the rest of the day.
The best part of morning practices is being there before everyone else, drinking decaf, and blasting Incubus and Smashing Pumpkins.
Almost eight.
The older I get, the more car-sick I get. I remember that I must do this drive in just a few short weeks.
The part of the drive on Highway 1 where you finally see the ocean crashing against the shore and the craggy thumbs thrusting from beneath the surface of the dark waters.
“You used to do the girl’s program at St. Helena, right?” “I still do,” I say with a smile.
I look in the back seat and don’t see my bag. I see everything else but my bag. I take a step inside the motel room and then step right back out and sit in the car. And I had just said that the room number was lucky. I just need to get to the water.
She says that she’s surprised that I was able to find underwear, that it’s always the first thing to go on the wall.
Who are the people rating this at 4.5 stars?
Can feel it. But there are no words for it yet. I won’t rush its formation. All things in due time.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Sixty-Eight
Slow.
First hours of the first day. Shower. Oil. Decaf.
He tells me that I won’t miss the group. Just drive about a quarter of a mile, and I should see them.
She and I end up sticking together for the hike. We talk and talk until we get to the point where we begin to climb. I tell her that this is my first time at this park, too, even after four years. Sometimes it is so hard to be a tourist in your own town.
So many lady bugs my skin begins to crawl. Never seen such a thing. Hundreds, probably thousands of them on logs and branches and leaves that line the path. “They’re good luck,” she says.
I tell her that this morning, I wrote in my journal how I was so close to this age that at one time seemed so far away.
“What would 40-year-old you tell 27-year-old me?” “Learn how to set boundaries sooner than later. Nothing is permanent. Life is a series of choices—make the hard decision; what comes after is easier than you think. The hardest part is just making the decision.”
Trust your gut.
The hike ends right as the rain begins to drip onto our eyelashes and cheeks.
Nature takes it time, yet everything is accomplished.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Sixty-Seven
Keeping my eyes closed.
Skipping the workout to rest the body.
Everyone had the same idea, she says. If we stay focused, we can be in and out of here quickly.
Can barely keep my eyes open on the way back home. It’s not even noon yet.
Trying to journal but too tired to find the words.
Making peace with the fact that all of the things I thought I would do during the break are not going to happen.
More rain.
Another nap.
Christmas Eve Eve.
She asks me if we have the stuff to hang the stockings. We do. I just haven’t done it yet.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Sixty-Six
I can do it.
The challenge of something new. The way the body shakes. The way the mind needs to focus.
Losing time while trying to find what has been lost.
Tumeric latte and a frittata. She says she’s been trying to catch my eye. Wants to understand how I got my hair this way. And where do I live? Here. Yep. Here.
Remembering to put the chicken into the Instapot for tacos.
Last year? A wonder we lost by only 13 points.
I tell him that I think tonight I might need to break my caffeine fast. “If I’m asking them to have energy, I need to bring some energy, too.”
I turn on my 90’s and 2000’s alternative playlist and sip on a dirty chai while setting up the gym. “11 a.m.” by Incubus. Pushing the switch to raise the backboards.
A lot of smiles and laughter. I don’t stop the conversations. This is good. Let it carry.
31-28. A few more minutes to go. I think we’re going to do it. I think it’s going to happen.
Now, tomorrow, we can really party.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Sixty-Five
Body says to rest today.
But I feel the lack of energy. And I’m out of decaf pods for the placebo effect.
Mind is moving slow, slow, slow.
Krug is never a bad idea.
Who knew scratch-offs would be the hot ticket item for the white elephant? I end up with a set of whisky glasses into which I’ll pour crisp white wine for fireside reading because sometimes you don’t need to follow any rules.
Still mulling over what the goal of the afternoon will be. Just gotta go with my gut.
What is a pathway to joy? Gratitude? Sleep? A combination of both.
He asks me if we had an intervention. Kind of.
The timing of things.
One more day and then some real days of rest.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Sixty-Four
Up before the alarm. Thinking of all the things that need to get done.
Another decaf to take off the chill.
The drive there is long, but at least it’s sunny.
Pay attention to the signs.
Two dear out in the field. I always forget how much space there is out here. Maybe this is what will be next.
“So designate a space for your thoughts to whirl and wander. Then implement your more practical plans. Doing so will help you indulge your imagination while staying grounded in reality.” - Chani
I am tired of writing this word, but I’m going to write it anyway.
Feeling very deeply the tension between what is and what I want to be.
It either happens or it doesn’t. And no one will die in the end.
If this were last year, I would just go sit in his office and talk it through. Maybe I’d see a bird in the feeder. Maybe I’d figure it out sooner.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Sixty-Three
A patch of blue sky through the fog.
Not sure what all of this is for.
I read the text messages and start to think. What do I do now? She says I’m handling it with grace.
In and out of the fog. Winding through the hills.
He says he walked to the In ‘n’ Out to get lunch. That he loved the time alone. It gave him time to clear his head. Best burger he’s had. Order number 7. Fresh fries. That’s my kid.
Once I figure out where I am, I ask to see him, but he’s in a patient-only space, so I go back to the lobby, where someone is playing piano, and try to work while I wait.
Now, to get all the way back home.
So close. So close.
Keep building the connections.
To ice cream or not to ice cream, that is the question.
Losing will never not be hard.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Sixty-Two
The rain sounds heavy. Very heavy.
How do I make this a work-from-home kind of day?
We both find our feet in front of the fire, laptops in hand.
But what I really want to do is go back to bed and fall asleep to the sound of the rain.
Doing it.
Fun run and then brownie bites.
For some reason, I feel compelled to buy ice cream and caramel and walnuts. And I probably won’t eat it.
“It’s a fatal error to not go with your gut.”
And then you remember why you do what you’re doing and why you love it.
What do we need to do tomorrow to recreate what we achieved yesterday?
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Sixty-One
Day three.
We sit in the chairs looking out into the little valley below, rain falling steadily from above. I feel much calmer today.
“What did the janitor say when he jumped out of the closet?”
Two things: it was Friday the 13th, and we didn’t scream.
He says that he can hear us from the locker room, and that’s a good thing.
We tell him two jokes and he doesn’t laugh. He’s a tough one to crack.
Anything over this is really just the gravy on top. We’re only a third of the way through, so I know that there is more to come.
When you root for the opps just because you dislike the other team so much.
The boys get another 1st place trophy and stay undefeated. This will be a fun season to watch.
Hot honey pepperoni pizza while scouting in the little chair in front of the fireplace. I need one more day to do just only this.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Sixty
One bite at a time.
I know I’ll feel better if I do than if I don’t.
Gratitudes for another day to be in this house while the rain falls heavy. The way the pond ripples from the poke of the rain. The way the leaves surrender to the weight of each drop.
“The best thing you can do is master the chaos in you. You are not thrown into the fire; you are the fire.”
You are the fire.
Feet in front of the fire. Too many emails.
It’s those jeans tucked into the boots and the phony smile.
Where is the disconnect?
He’s right. Gotta change it up. Trust my gut. I know what to do.
Wash it all away with the rain.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Fifty-Nine
A few extra minutes.
A thin white string of fog woven between the trees.
The sense of peace brought on by the rain and the darkness. For every up, a down. For every down, an up.
Clean.
I manage to get dinner into the Instapot before I have to leave, which feels like a major feat compared to the last few weeks.
I ask him if he’s joking or being serious. I’m just not used to hearing this kind of compliment from a teacher for them.
But it doesn’t feel like we’re winning.
If we could take the energy of one and combine it with the skill of the other…
A double-cheeseburger with grilled onions, add ketchup and mustard. Yes, keep the secret sauce, too.
Yes. One day, I’ll sleep again.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Fifty-Eight
A Wednesday that feels like it should be a Friday.
I sit down at the table and start to think about where we were at the end of last season and what we’ve already done. Do they believe me now? I believe it.
I take my seat at the back again. I know it’s a bad look, but the seats are just so close—to close.
Daydreams of what could be next.
Not the kind of numbers you want the day before, but we press on.
Picture day. We agree that time goes by so fast. Faster and faster every year.
A good story.
The sound of rain on the rooftop.
He tells me that he’s happy that I’m so excited about cleaning my home and sitting in front of my fireplace.
Ready.