Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Ninety-Six
Monday, bloody Monday.
Enough time for morning pages. Thinking that maybe this tradeoff is worth it.
A little bit of sunshine.
Where in the world is my water bottle?
So many cars in the parking lot. It will be a loud day.
Reminiscing about the things from our teenage years that are resurfacing as trends. No to capris, please.
It’s hot, but being out here is better than being in there.
A picture-perfect view from the top of the hill.
Deep diving into my chart. It says 19x Water. No wonder I am the way that I am.
Adjust expectations. Release attachment to the outcome.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Ninety-Four
Oh yeah, I actually have to get up.
Wide blue sky, wispy clouds, rolling hills, resting cows.
The sounds of basketball at 8:30 in the morning.
Finally breaking the seal of my Paper Republic journal. What is it about writers and the preciousness of a notebook?
My watch keeps telling me there’s still time to reach today's fitness goal, but I don’t have one.
The best gift I could have given myself this summer was to take the second session off. Even this little sliver of brain space is making such a difference.
“Daughter of power, do not halt the initiations of becoming a phenomenon.” - Vagabroad Journals
I saw her at least twice a week for 9 months, and now all of a sudden, nothing. I miss her.
White bolognese. A shaved fennel salad. Needed more green!
“Ciao House.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Ninety-Three
Is it already 7? I’m just gonna lie here a little longer.
I can never remember when I’m supposed to use lay vs. lie.
At least someone understands this stage of life we’re in.
It will be a little cooler in Petaluma.
Trying to make a reel. I need to hire someone to do this. Who has time for this?
I do miss the sounds of the basketball court.
Waffle fries dipped in honey mustard sauce. A drop on the inner thigh. I find a free finger to wipe it away.
“Zombie” by The Cranberries.
We’ve been gone for 8 hours.
No. Not the goats.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Ninety
Meditation and intentions.
I should just do it out of spite. If I could do it for them, surely I could do it for me.
When the kids eat all the proteins every night, there’s no meat to add to your meal in the morning.
I tell them that I set an intention of attracting abundance today.
She says she met someone who is looking for a dream hire and thought of me. I think we could be a match made in heaven.
So basically, you just don’t want us to talk to each other anymore. Our friendship offends you.
An angry walk through the vineyards.
The goats are awfully loud tonight.
Massively Transformative Purpose.
Can I do both? I feel like I’m the kind of person who could do both.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Eighty-Nine
Day 1. Set an intention.
Gray skies sticking around.
I put the notebook in my bag again. One day, I’ll actually write in it.
He says his beans came out mushy. I tell him how I read a book called “The Happiness Advantage” over the weekend. He makes a face, and then we laugh, though he agrees with the thesis.
I tell him that he should just read the first two chapters of East of Eden, and he will understand.
A long lunch outside under the shade. Sometimes the squirrels look very large to me, almost like kittens.
I can’t believe they left me here all alone.
One of the rare times when I really don’t know what I should do.
Sweaty evening hike.
Twenty-five things you are curious about?
“You have to dignify the character by the end of page two.” - Vendela Vida
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Eighty-Eight
Cold potato salad and leftover grilled shrimp. Water. Fresh air. A book.
Sometimes I hear the wind before I see it. Sometimes I hear it above me and never feel it on my skin.
I watch him put 3 chicken thighs on his plate and realize the leftovers won’t last as long as I thought.
The way my sense of time has expanded now that I don’t have any classes or (as much) basketball.
It sounds like they keep moving the goats from one side of the hill to the other.
“This is a true ripple effect—by trying to make ourselves happier and more successful, we actually have the ability to improve the lives of 1,000 people around us.” - The Happiness Advantage
Slow Sunday.
You can already tell that the days are beginning to shorten.
Breezes from bird wings.
Yes, more of this, please.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Eighty-Seven
How did I forget about the alarm?
I’m thinking, which means I’m awake.
The just-right weather for a book, coffee, and a light blanket.
A long list of gratitudes.
Posture.
Honest conversations.
Not sure why I wanted to make such a big meal for just the five of us: grilled chicken thighs, two tri-tips, corn on the cob, caprese salad, potato salad, peach cobbler.
A last-minute chat with the ‘rents.
Gut checks.
Expectancy Theory.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Eighty-Six
No alarm. But there are, of course, the birds.
Washing the shower while you’re in the shower.
He’s not as far along as I thought he would be, but also not surprised.
Chai latte with him at a table in the shade. I promise him that I miss him, but I assure him that he’s in a much better place.
We never have a glass of wine at lunch, but today is the right kind of day for it.
I tell him that I’ve been daydreaming about a day in practice where I say to the girls, “I want you to remember four numbers: 29-22 and 8 of 18,” and then we shoot free throws for two hours.
I thank him for giving me space in the op ed section of the paper. He tells me I’m a good writer and that they need good writing. I ask him what the paper is looking for. He asks me, “Well, what do you want to write?”
I tell them that my spirit feels a bit renewed, seeing all of these people who also love books and writing.
Did I just talk to Francis Ford Coppola?
Every once in a while I remember that I do live in a magical place.
See what happens when you decide?
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Eighty-Five
Here comes the sun.
Phone call from someone you were just thinking about.
Just do it.
Overscheduled.
A hint that maybe we will leave the office a little earlier — “if we’re not being supervised.”
More moths.
We spend the last hour reviewing Gen Z slang and what the kids are actually using these days.
This left turn onto 29.
Weeknight chicken tagine. Multiple compliments from the kids.
Pushing past the uncomfortable.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Eighty-Four
Show me how good it can get.
This trading-morning-workout-for-journaling thing is going pretty well.
I know it’s been a good week when the first 40 minutes of therapy fly by.
She tells me that she’s glad that I had that week with her. That it seemed as though I really needed it. “I did. I needed it more than I realized I would need it.”
I’ll know when I know.
She needs a good Pro/Con list.
I literally bang my head against the desk. This freaking sign. I just want it to be over.
In another world, this is what I would have done instead.
How did I forget it was July 1?
The way the shadows dance across the table.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Eighty-Three
Show me how good it gets.
What’s the difference between the me then and the me now? It’s not that simple.
A constantly hot cup of decaf.
Lunch in the shade. A walk through the vineyard. The discovery of a bramble of blackberries in the back parking lot.
Picking flowers from the leftover arrangements underneath the stairs. A little bit of beauty everywhere.
“…see what happens when you decide…”
Tagliatelle with butter and prosciutto.
A short walk that turns into a longer hike.
When sunset turns everything into the colors of a vintage Polaroid.
I told her that I put it on 450 degrees, and she says, “dog.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Eighty-Two
Decaf and journaling in the morning light. The perfect pause.
“Bittersuite” - Billie Eilish
Flowers! A self-warming mug! Friends! The best Monday!
Tri-tip; peach, arugula, and goat cheese salad; pinquinto beans; garlic bread.
We’ve now been invited to play pickleball on the crush pad.
We’re all trying to heal, aren’t we?
She’s picking the orchid branches out of the arrangements and putting them into a plastic bag.
Cheez-its and the wint-o-green mints are back.
The gym feels cool until you actually start running in it.
She says it feels weird to hear herself be called a senior.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Eighty-One
No location.
I could just wake up and enjoy the morning's slowness.
Birthday hoops — as a spectator. But the best thing about doing this is making new connections.
The gift of extra time.
Summer sun.
She asks if I feel any different. Yes. And no.
Pork ribs and coleslaw and lemonade.
He shows us the hairs on his arms, literally standing straight up. Infectious.
“You belong in this basketball community.”
Riding in the passenger seat, watching the hills blur in front of my eyes. Thinking about her questions. Wondering if I really feel the answers.
“There is no beauty without some sense of strangeness.” - Edgar Allan Poe
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Eighty
Morning light through the wooden blinds.
I scroll through the app to see when the next summer session begins. July 1 seems so soon.
Diffuser.
Solbar. A French press of decaf. Donuts. A mimosa. Fruit. Scrambled eggs and bacon. Depth and gratitude.
Home alone.
“If we study merely what is average, we will remain merely average.” - The Happiness Advantage
How do you make space for the fullest expression of your self? What conditions are required for you to be your best?
Embracing the quiet.
A walk to gelato and freshly cut flowers.
Ready
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Seventy-Nine
TGIF.
Can’t believe it’s already the last day.
Ubuntu.
Sweaty in the gym. Loud in the gym. Joy in the gym.
I love it when it’s full of people who really love what they’re doing.
Hugs and handshakes from strangers, out of gratitude.
I tried to be inconspicuous, but we got spotted.
I tell him that I try to remind myself that it’s easier to push the boulder down the hill.
Twinkle lights.
I decide that I’m just going to have to accept getting the two Bs this semester.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Seventy-Eight
Another rest day. It feels unnatural.
I spot him walking around the campus with his cup of coffee. Like a farmer admiring his work. Or, maybe, it’s like taking a peaceful stroll through the garden.
I tell him that I’d rather be here.
He asks her if people recognized her at the taqueria. I tell her that she’s famous. Like, in this little corner of the world, you’re famous.
Can’t focus.
Hard choices, easy life. Easy choices, hard life.
In 15 minutes, I get about 20 years of a life story, and it is indeed the right kind of arc, going from bad to better and trying to give the next generation an even greater opportunity to thrive.
The kids try to teach her a few new slang words, which is always my favorite part of any dinner.
She keeps telling me that I get to choose, and the kids are like, “This is the happiest I’ve seen her be about her birthday.” They are not wrong.
Hard choice = doing statistics homework at 10 p.m.
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Seventy-Seven
Rest day.
That panic that rushes through the body at 5:23 a.m. when you hear the trash truck coming, and you aren’t sure that they put the cans outside.
Work-from-gym day.
Two more days until PTO.
She tells me that this one kid has come all the way from Fortuna. Fortuna!
Station chopped salad for the win.
The invisible load keeps getting heavier and heavier, and it feels as if there’s no season of life when it will lighten.
Apologizing for being late to a meeting that really didn’t need to be a meeting anyway.
You think it’s just basketball, but it’s more than that.
“Not about me.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Seventy-Six
Going uphill in the weighted vest is no joke.
On the second loop, a large feather is in the path.
Twenty-six point five gallons of gas. There was literally no gas in the truck. Literally none. How did I even make it into town?
Half decaf and half caf. Green juice. Racing thoughts.
This is my favorite week of the summer. Always so good.
Ben & Jerry’s at the company picnic. Non-dairy ice cream with rainbow sprinkles.
I text him that it’s photoshoot day and that I miss him. I really do.
No. I can’t remember it all.
That’s a wrap. The best kind of work day, even though they are the hardest.
Will I even recall anything I read between the hours of 9 and 11 p.m?
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Seventy-Five
Gray, gray morning.
I really hope these iron gummies work.
Will this weighted vest change my life?
It’s not just them, but all the things that come along with
She asks where the snacks are. There aren’t any.
A picture in the shade of the umbrella to send to Work-Dad.
When someone keeps telling you that they are a mean person on the inside, you have to wonder: one, why the confession, and two, is this true, or is it some bad joke you keep wanting to tell?
Oh, no. I somehow ran out of the wint-o-greens and got peppermints.
A little twinge in the knee.
Almost time for shooting camp!
Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Seventy-Four
3:30 a.m. Just a little bit of barking.
Cognitive reappraisal.
Their flight is landing a little bit early.
Where are you running to?
Behind us is a father, on Father’s Day, telling his young child that he's sick and tired of him, that he’s awful, that he doesn’t want to even be around him. I tell my husband that I just read about this exact situation in my emotional intelligence book… about how, because the parent can’t self-regulate, they speak in wild ways to the child, who then emulates the behavior, yet the parent doesn’t understand why the child can’t control themself. I hope, at some point, someone gives that child the right tools to break the cycle.
And so it begins.
Ants crawling around the edge of the sink. Great.
Green bean and cherry tomato salad.
Stress-eating Nutella and pretzel crisps.
Here we go again.