Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Fifteen
Twenty minutes later.
Red blazer. I say something about it being against the dress code. I throw on something black over it to hide it.
Not long enough of a commute to finish the song.
Something about this year feels different for me. Too distracted? Too disconnected? Too, too, too.
I'm just trying to be solution-oriented.
Almost $1000 in basketballs in one season gone.
If nothing else, I have these people.
Bittersweet.
“I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it.”
A little light.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Fourteen
Forty-five minutes later.
Big gray sweater. No. Cream sweater. No. Sweater dress. I might regret this thick black sweater.
Look at this sunrise.
Still all out of sorts.
“You can change your priorities whenever you want to.”
I stand in the kitchen and stuff two eggs into my mouth and a handful of strawberries. “I just need a minute,” I say with a smile. Just a minute.
Sun. So much sun. So much happiness. Ready for real spring.
At the end of the day, it’s done. We got what we needed. On to the next.
Magnets!
Just do the right thing.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Thirteen
Sleeping in.
Unexpectedly warm. Unexpectedly sunny. The light on my face makes me smile.
Windows down.
I stare out across the valley and into the downy blanket of trees that cover the mountainsides and think of how excited I am for them to experience this. And how lucky I am that this is my every day.
Because I haven’t had a peanut butter cup in a very long time.
So much sun.
But really, I kind of want to sit here in my chair and drink a little cup of coffee and light a log even though it’s 70 degrees outside.
“Units of meaning.”
Every now and again you are put into places and spaces that make you question every choice you’ve made up until that point. Or you realize that where you are and what you are doing may not be of service to your highest self. You need those kind of revelations.
Only four more.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Twelve
Game day ribbons.
Which version will show up today?
Wipe feet. Light candle. Adjust the amaryllis in the sill. Plug in the computer. Think about how to be better today.
Decline.
I tell her that I’m not surprised. This is what happens when you’re honest and try to hold people accountable. They don’t want alone time with me because I make them uncomfortable. I’m not going to beg.
Truthtelling.
Text reminders to eat. Chicken pastor and rice. I should have brought some fruit.
Coffee and a chocolate before heading back into the rain.
Identify the disease. Remove it. Take measures to be sure it doesn’t return.
But what will happen if he’s never the same again?
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Eleven
No more wood. No more fire.
OMG, he’s wearing jeans.
These days will be gone before you know it.
We show up for a meeting that isn’t happening.
I will settle for this.
Sometimes, the only thing you can do is laugh.
They must think I am asleep. All I hear are creaking doors, feet thudding, hands in the ice machine.
This house, with its metal roof and the sound of the rain.
Gratitudes.
“All the ‘not readies,’ all the ‘I need time,’ are understandable, but only for a short while. The truth is that there is never a ‘completely ready,’ there is never a really ‘right time.’ As with any descent to the unconscious, there comes a time when one simply hopes for the best, pinches one's nose, and jumps into the abyss. If this were not so, we would not have needed to create the words heroine, hero, or courage.” - Women Who Run With the Wolves