Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Nineteen
I debate whether or not I should get out of bed. I let my knees decide for me. It’s okay to rest. I’ll find another day to work out.
Underdressed? Overdressed?
Thank goodness the sun is out.
Everything is temporary.
I keep looking at my watch and realize that maybe I am thinking about those circles too much.
Flavor and texture.
Just one thing. Just one thing? Maybe that really is the way. But every fiber in my being resists this idea.
It’s been a long time since I’ve walked the trail. The unevenness of it feels foreign beneath my feet. The two big white dogs are barking at me as I make my way back. Spotting blackberry vines and mustard and tall grasses—the sheep should be coming soon.
But, really, we’re running out of time.
Is this about him, or is it about me and what I think his behaviors reflect about me?
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Eighteen
So cold.
I hear the sound of the garbage truck coming around the corner and pray they remembered to take the trash out.
I throw my robe over my t-shirt and shorts, and we drive off in the dark. I admire his work ethic. Effort over everything.
He tells us stories of what he’s built, the waterfall that used to trickle down the hillside before he covered it, the landscape designer from Florida who called them “old men” unaware that the dirt they were digging was not the same soft soil, how much has changed in the 30-something years he’s been there.
A fox. Camouflage. Fox medicine involves adaptability, cunning, observation, integration, and swiftness of thought and action… Use your cunning nature in a positive way; keep silent about who and what and why you are observing.
Foodtruck Ramen.
Feeling like I need a nap but forcing myself to stay awake instead.
Achy knees.
Instapot chili.
An extra Lego set accidentally ordered as a stocking stuffer while waiting for the big one to get out of my shower. Peace and quiet.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Seventeen
Sunrise at 6:38 a.m.
I read the headline of the article and begin to put the pieces together. This is what they were talking about. I jump to the worst-case scenario: what would be required in order to survive another round?
Knowing when someone just needs to be heard.
I think they are keeping the lights low for me.
I knew I shouldn’t have filled out that form online.
“Enthusiasm is common. Endurance is rare.” ― Angela Duckworth, Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance
The problem with audiobooks is not having the ability to go back and reference all the dog-eared pages, the underlined sentences, the starred quotes. It’s that part of reading and learning that I enjoy.
I remember to bring my long puffer because once the sun goes down, it will be cold.
What are the promises I keep breaking with myself? What are the promises I have kept?
Simmer in gratitude.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Sixteen
In the dream, everything is quiet; I can’t hear anything.
4,003 minutes.
Pruned vines. New beginnings.
This Monday is Monday-ing.
“Grit depends on a different kind of hope. It rests on the expectation that our own efforts can improve our future. I have a feeling tomorrow will be better is different from I resolve to make tomorrow better. The hope that gritty people have has nothing to do with luck and everything to do with getting up again.” - Angela Duckworth, Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance
Should have packed a lunch.
An abnormal day when every desk is occupied, which means I can’t hear my audiobook, and that’s sad.
This trip might be a little more rustic than I initially thought. But I can handle it. Right?
There is value in staying silent.
She was right about the rice krispie treats.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Fifteen
Sunny Sunday.
Feet in front of the fireplace. Journal. To-do lists. College Game Day on in the background.
Deadline met.
Summer classes set. Getting closer.
I threaten to take the phones away for a week if they don’t get the tree taken down. Everyone flocks to the living room.
Front-porch-sun-reading. Discovering two more crab cakes. The sound of the wind blowing through the treetops.
Remembering to enjoy these empty moments while they last.
Kept them up way past their bedtime.
“The mindset isn’t about seeking a result—it’s more about the process of getting to that result. It’s about the journey and the approach. It’s a way of life. I do think that it’s important, in all endeavors, to have that mentality.” - Kobe Bryant
There’s always tomorrow.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Fourteen
The joy of knowing you get to sleep in.
Morning coffee over Zoom with a Day 1.
I wonder what it must feel like to be able to yawn without fear that your jaw will unhinge itself.
When the same thoughts resurface over and over again, then you know there is a message you should be listening to.
#11
Sauvignon Blanc and sunshine. Citrus salad. Polenta bites. Chocolate chip and macadamia nut cookies.
Thinking about the deadline. There’s still tomorrow.
Cravings.
I tell her that I think by the fifth day of the week, everything just catches up with me.
Yep. Still miss it.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Thirteen
These old knees.
More basketball? Yes, please.
I laugh at the text, but really, I’m relieved.
Oh boy. That due date is Monday.
Cool morning air blowing against the skin while we come around the curve. I see old friends and familiar faces. We walk and talk and look at the birds and the sheep and the trees. Me and Work Dad.
I thought I wanted to warm weather until i started to feel the sweat dripping down the back of my neck.
Counting and recounting and being pleasantly surprised that considering how many people said they lost something, we actually are only missing five items.
I got a hug, and that is something that I won’t forget.
Sliders, sweet potato fries, pretzel bites, and strawberry shortcake, all while watching a softball game at 75 degrees.
Once the sun goes down…
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Twelve
When you accidentally sleep longer than you meant to, which means everything is off track for the day.
This call at 3 a.m. must surely be an accident.
I face the large windows to watch the sun illuminate the trees.
Breakfast burritos, breakfast sandwiches, coffee, pressed juices, and Black Eyed Peas on repeat.
I can see it.
She starts to tell a story, and the lights flicker, and then the lights go out. We sit there in the darkness for several moments. My eyes start to water.
Add a little bit more to the list.
Obey your hungers.
Crab cakes, risotto, creamed spinach. Talks about who’s going to take down the tree. Thinking about how tomorrow is going to be different.
“I asked a ton of questions.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Eleven
Sweaty ride to his shoot-around.
Of course, she’s there. I should have just gone in anyway and would have avoided this—an honest mistake.
All this light in my face.
Pinterest collages.
Because it’s a Wednesday and it’s sunny, so why not?
We all have the same reaction, which means that I’m not being irrational about it.
I forgot how cold it gets on nights like these during the early part of the season.
I should really brush up on my Spanish.
I knew she must have said something.
Two chicken thighs per person is just not enough these days.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Ten
Even in the dark, I can see that the fog is thick.
I’m already hot. I walk over to the thermostat and turn it down two degrees.
It goes to voicemail, and then I remember.
The email is from the rowing coach and says that they have scholarships available for girls who are at least 5’8, athletic, and strong—no experience needed. Who would have thought that could be an option?
I like them.
That feeling when people are having a meeting in the conference room, which means you can’t go back in to grab chocolate or salt & vinegar chips or wint-o-green mints.
Not getting it.
More emails mean it’s almost time to begin again.
Bright sun. Warmth. I walk up the hill to the mailbox and think about how soon there will be so much more light. And maybe that means time in the hammock reading a book.
I don’t want to like this bread as much as I do.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Nine
Reverse lunges and overhead presses. Why does it feel so hot so early in the morning? I should turn down the heat.
That darn tree.
I put the flowers in a vase and set the vase on the table, which has now become a little shrine. I wonder if I should hang all of my pictures here instead.
Why do I keep getting invited to these?
Control what you can control.
I didn’t think it was supposed to rain today.
So much funnier than I was at that age.
“Bruh, I would have left a long time ago.”
“What does it mean to ‘cobble together?’”
“They aren’t medical emergencies, but they are medical things that occupy my mind.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Eight
Slow Sunday.
Quiet house. Listmaking. Hot coffee. Soft socks and Birkenstocks.
Salt crust around his nose and mouth.
Car wash. Water keeps blowing back in my face. I think I’m doing this wrong, but something is better than nothing. Sweating as I vacuum all the crumbs.
Present-self thanking past-self for thinking this through.
Space.
We really were only one away.
I keep saying that I’ll have a break before next season, but that’s not true. I’m already pulling together summer and pre-season and the first weeks of November.
Too many Rice Krispies treats.
Gratitude.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Seven
Sleeping in.
Having the foresight to do the hard stuff on the front end so that the back end is much easier.
Sunny Saturday errands. Handwritten lists. Two mugs topped off with frothy vanilla oat milk.
We must go back, so we throw in lunch because he has wine to deplete. The way the light is filtering through the canopy is perfect. Brioche with honey and rosemary, and Normandy butter. Mussels and french fries. A citrus pavlova.
Always feeling like it’s never enough.
Fat-tailed squirrels digging in my plants.
It’s Open That Bottle Night. I pick out the 2022 Salty Goats Fort Ross Seaview Pinot Noir. Pleasantly surprised. The perfect bottle to open for a person like me who needed to be surprised and delighted again by a glass of wine.
Really wanted them to lose.
Finding the words.
So many things I don’t want to forget to say and yet there is only so much time. Trusting that I’ll say what’s most important.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Six
I hear his alarm, which means it’s an hour later than I want it to be.
I stare out at the sunrise while in goddess pose and get excited about the longer stretches of light that come with spring.
Warm.
Podcasts and emails and water and snacks.
I tell her that this parenting thing is so stressful. So stressful. How do we survive this?
It’s warm, the sun is out, and so are the people. Feels like a smile on the inside.
The first thing I do when we sit is slather a piece of bread with butter and start to eat. Lately, I feel so hungry.
Two wint-o-green mints in the front pocket.
I realize that the problem is I’ve developed some new kinds of coping mechanisms that I don’t like.
Not knowing if what you think is the right thing is really the right thing.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Five
Inching closer and closer to the edge of the bed.
Sensing all the tension in the shoulders. The required conscious effort to relax the shoulders and the jaw. Maybe I’m just overdue for a massage.
Tights.
Light bouncing off the running water in the river.
I need a walking pad to put under this desk if I’m going to keep eating the salt and vinegar Kettle chips.
Alone in the office. I turn down all the lights and enjoy the quiet.
We talk about honesty and no poker faces, and things would be better if everyone could tell the truth.
The warmth. The glow of the setting sun. Windows down. You can feel it coming.
Release it from expectation. Build it in real-time. Make no promises to anyone but yourself. Be free.
I still don’t think I’ve changed his mind.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Four
Waited too long to get out of bed.
I pick a new workout with a new trainer, and she keeps saying, “damn it,” and it’s distracting, but the workout is good.
My list of to-do’s keeps getting longer and longer, and I keep thinking, “They really should rehire that position.”
Chicken in the salad. PTSD.
The sun is breaking through. Thank goodness for a break in the rain.
Well. It could be something. It could be nothing. Just wait and see.
When your daughter’s friends says she lives for your Instagram, all you can do is laugh. And worry a bit. But mostly laugh.
It’s not how you want to end, but someone has to lose. You just never want it to be you.
Stunted.
Watching Sports Center highlights, and it’s the USC game, and I think to myself, “Sometimes, I think I’m wound tighter than Juju Watkin’s bun.” A giggle.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Three
I could get up now, or I could lay here a little longer under the weight of the blanket.
Just a few more minutes.
Bright morning light sneaking through the valley.
Glad to know it wasn’t my imagination.
Slow and steady.
A bag full of lemons.
A handful of wint-o-green lifesavers stuffed into the cupholder.
I don’t think I really want to meet in person. I know what this conversation is going to be about.
But I get it. I’m the only one who can do it. Whatever gives them the most confidence, I guess?
And then again, there is this time together that we otherwise would not have, and that makes it worth it.
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & Two
Late start, but I know I’ll regret not getting on the mat.
Moody morning sky. A peek of pink before the fog covers it over again.
Investigating my sadness.
A list of failures. A list of successes. The failures feel so big in this moment. But feelings aren’t facts.
Save yourself.
I start working on the thing, even though I don’t have any of it figured out. Yet, there is an energy pulsing that I haven’t felt in a long time and so I keep pressing on. I need more of this.
Beauty Hunter. Storyteller. Coach. Amateur Bread Baker. Perpetual Student of Life. Dreamer of Big Dreams.
Leftovers.
This is the first year that I didn’t have to fight for my girls to be placed on the all-conference teams and that feels good.
Presence + Curiousity
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred & One
A Thursday that feels like a Friday.
The sound of steady rain touching everything.
“Leave everything on the court, because tomorrow is never promised.”
I am the first one in the office. I don’t turn on any of the lights. I keep her on speakerphone while I turn on my computer, make a cup of decaf in the Nespresso. I tell her that I should come in early more often. Reminds me of my days in my old office at The Reserve.
Disappointed but not surprised.
Boundary work.
Counting down the minutes. Envisioning best-case scenarios.
As we get closer to the gym, there’s a break in the clouds, and I see the sun trying to push through. I take it as a sign that good things are to come.
We really gotta step up our hospitality.
I wait for them to come out of the locker room. Give each one a hug before we walk back out into the rain. What better way to end a season?
“Last year, we instilled hope. Now we expect to win.” - Deion Sanders
Ten.Two Thousand, Four Hundred
Not today.
I watch the first light of the morning begin to turn the sky from black to gradients of deep blue. Usually, the neighbor’s lights are on by now. Whoever is the early bird must be enjoying some extra sleep.
Finally. Six months!
So cold. She stuffs her sweatshirt into her backpack. There’s a kid walking to school with no jacket on. There’s frost on everything.
When someone is in charge of a thing and doesn’t feel as though they don’t know the things they are supposed to know, there is this tension that stretches alongside every word they say.
But the thing is, in this instance, our opinions don’t matter.
I should plan a lunch for us.
There is a different way.
“Winning is fun... Sure. But winning is not the point. Wanting to win is the point. Not giving up is the point. Never letting up is the point. Never being satisfied with what you've done is the point.” - Pat Summit
At least three more.