Ten.Three Hundred & Eleven
1. He is up before me again. Too many questions before 6 am.
2. The way the morning light is coming up through the trees, so thin and golden.
3. But, no. There’s still enough food here.
4. No one eats the biscuits. I am missing the meals at the ranch. I am missing the feeling of being well-fed.
5. We walk. One big mug of tea in my hands. Gnats. Two heron turning their necks.
6. I don’t know what to do so I read some more pages of Emergent Strategy.
7. So much sun and only the noise of lawnmowers and weed whackers.
8. Sunroof weather.
9. The evening is falling apart. My angst is a result of too much time on social media plus imaginary conversations that have been playing out in my head.
10. It could also be the sugar. Too much sugar today.
Ten.Three Hundred & Ten
1. Maybe they need black-out curtains.
2. The color of the sky: gray but warm. Low and thick clouds moving slowly but still blocking the sun. They did say it might rain.
3. When the drizzle stops we go buy the plants: rosemary, tomatoes, lavender, sage, oregano, thyme, watermelon, spinach, cilantro, mint, strawberries.
4. Satisfying work.
5. I worry that maybe we don't have enough soil, but I think about what I know now about root systems from studying a little bit of viticulture. What can't do down will spread out and so maybe we'll be ok.
6. I try to nap but there are too many voices.
7. But what's next?
8. I am craving dessert. In fact, I am just craving. For some reason I am particularly hungry today and so he goes out to find an apple pie and a container of ice cream after a cookie recipe goes wrong. Maybe it is a little bit of anxiety creeping in.
9. How come I don't know what to do? I do know what to do. Why don't I trust that I know what to do. I think back to the preferential shapes and how I keep thinking that I need to spend time in building foundations when what I need to work on is relationship and integration.
10. I hear the words and decide that at this moment there is no need for response. Because listening actually doesn't require a response. Besides, nothing good will come from this by talking about it tonight. Best to wait until the morning.
Ten.Three Hundred & Nine
1. Why are they up before 6 am. I thought I had a rule about this.
2. What is the point of that rule if they no longer need me to be so present so early? They've fed themselves, cleaned their rooms, and one of them is already dressed. This is a parenting "success".
3. Today we will make the beds. I sit down to eat a bowl of cheerios and flax milk and drink a big jar of water.
4. At least we'll start our work in the shade.
5. I unload 68 bags of pea gravel from the pallet and 20 bags of top soil.
6. I can't remember the last time I had a blister. He says that he's soft—that we're soft. I suggest we do more work like this. "The soft ones die first," I say. Since reading "Parable of the Sower" I can't not think of life after system, economic, and culture collapse.
7. Done. What was once a blank and unusable space behind the garage is 3 garden beds and a small sitting area for my mornings. Or on evenings once the sun begins to set behind the hill.
8. We stare out at the street stretched before us arguing over things that don't really matter.
9. Tomorrow? Planting and resting and cleaning and laundry.
10. A body aching in gratitude, blanketed in a gauzy shawl, gentle breeze blowing against the skin.
Ten.Three Hundred & Eight
1. He's always asking for something. I could learn to be more bold in my ask.
2. But I also want to pull away from all of this.
3. The old man is there today. Still in his blue sneakers but not as cheery as usual.
4. I unload all the bags and decide there is tie for a bike ride. In go headphones—Maroon 5, Songs About Jane—and on the bike I go.
5. So many dandelions. And on my way back home, the Heron.
6. I start to draw up the garden bed arrangement. I’m afraid I’m being too ambitious but decide that I said this is what I wanted to do and so I’m going to do it.
7. There is so much space and I intend to take it up.
8. He says that we really do need to move. That my brightness is so tied to the sun. And this is the version of me he likes best. The one that dances and sings in the kitchen.
9. Sparkling Rosé of Malbec.
10. Body is so tired. But the good kind of tired. There is more work to be done.
Ten.Three Hundred & Seven
1. The storms woke me up. So much rain beating against the siding. Thunderstorms in this house sound so different. Just so loud.
2. This gray skies absent of bird chatter. The kids are already awake and downstairs. I thought I made a rule about what time they could be down here. I'm too tired to fight it.
3. Cleaning day. Trying to find a place for all the things to go. I want to set up an altar, a Fever Dreams altar, but don't know where it could go. A windowsill maybe? Until I can find a low table?
4. One year and 1 month later this house still feels so empty, so un-lived in, so temporary. Trying to intuit what it and I need.
5. But I actually do really like a clean home as much I dislike the labor of cleaning it.
6. I leave really early because I just need to get out and get air. And shoelaces. I always forget to get the things they ask for as they exit the car. But not today. Shoelaces.
7. "I trust myself to feel,l to grow from what I feel, not to run when I sense a feeling coming." - Emergent Strategy
8. Mince garlic, slice mushrooms, trim broccoli, chop chicken. Burn the teriyaki sauce and go back to the store to buy an already-made version that tastes just as good. Wish you had a Riesling instead of Pinot Grigio.
9. Skills versus Heart. She tells me to figure out what my minimum is for the skills so that I can share more of the Heart.
10. But I should also just relax a little bit. The softer my grip the more space there is for un-thought-of possibilities.
Ten.Three Hundred & Five
1. It is late. So much later than I meant to wake up. But my body is telling me that I needed it. And that there is time for me to rest.
2. A large glass of water. No appetite yet. I know that I am hungry for things I don't yet have.
3. I decide on a simple dinner menu to get us through the rest of the week: spaghetti and sauce with veggies and focaccia, roasted chicken and baked potatoes with brussel sprouts, a stirfry in rice noodles like we had at the ranch.
4. This feeling that if I don't start acting today on the lessons I collected at the ranch, that I never will.
5. I make a mug of tea and put on my shoes because I remember now just how badly my body wants to move.
6. Trees in bloom.
7. The heron, so still with its long orange beak and blue-gray body.
8. Heron. I pulled two cards that day, each one mentioning the heron.
9. I keep closing my eyes at the dinner table.
10. Can't stop thinking about all of them.
Ten.Three Hundred & Four
1. 2 a.m.
2. The three men in blues get on the air tran with the other woman and myself and then get off at the next stop. I didn't get a chance to extend eye contact and a "thank you."
3. Humans in airports are an interesting phenomenon.
4. The sun is beginning to rise and sky is stacked with deep purples and oranges, lush and moody, a fever dream in itself.
5. I want to go to sleep but every time I close my eyes a face appears and they begin to talk to me and it's so disruptive so I keep my eyes open.
6. Mildred Pierce.
7. I close my eyes in between questions and answers.
8. I'm grateful for the warmth. It's easing the return.
9. There will be words and probably tears at some time in the future. So much to feel, too much to feel all at once.
10. I go ahead and clean the kitchen even though I said I wouldn't. The ranunculus dried out while I was away. They remind me of our time together this weekend. Of how I wanted to cover everything with papery petals. Of how what I really mean is to be my natural self.
Ten.Three Hundred & Three
1. The buzz buzz of my phone. Emails coming through pre-dawn.
2. I decide to make sure I get to the bench for sunrise. I watch as the yellow light falls over the land. The tall, wild grasses look golden. The grass—a bright yellow-green. Clouds that look like mountains.
3. I play "3x5" by John Mayer and my eyes swell a little with tears. Large sips of water.
4. I will miss this place. I will miss these women.
5. Two deer on the hill. It feels like some kind of good omen.
6. We hug them all good-bye. I'm almost glad that I'm so tired otherwise I might cry. Large sips of water.
7. Jasmine and orange blossoms and lemon blossoms and eucalyptus and succulents and oaks and roses and birds of paradise and agave and rosemary.
8. But when do I get to come back?
9. I ought to speak more love over it. Yes. Yes. More love. And so I whisper apologies and then affirmations. Because I do want it to grow.
10. I don't want to leave.
Ten.Three Hundred and Two
1. More poetry taped to doors and gifts placed on seats. I can’t stop smelling the Pali santo.
2. How is this really the last day? I’m not ready to go yet.
3. The sunrise this morning. How after last night’s rain the golden light makes everything look so lush and rich in color.
4. Still waiting for coffee.
5. This life.
6. All of the cards keep saying the same thing: It’s time to choose. If you want to continue on this path or transformation and growth, just do the hard thing.
7. So many smiles and so much laughter.
8. Hot coffee spilling over the sides. Everything here is spilling over: the jasmine, the clematis, the water, my heart.
9. Driving up Grove Street, alone in the van in complete silence, only in the presence of myself and the high rolling hills, feeling that “yes, this is Home. Yes. This is Home.”
10. Whole.
Ten.Three Hundred & One
1. Turkey? Yes, turkey I think.
2. The upside is that I get to hear all of the first sounds of the world waking and here it sounds unlike anything else at home.
3. Everything here is so fragrant. I’m trying to know the names of what I see and touch.
4. Praying for my life.
5. And this is just and experiment, an exercise in learning how to let go and stay in beginner’s mind.
6. Of course I would find my water bottle after I’ve already bought another one.
7. The sun, the sun, the sun.
8. All that you touch you change. All that you change changes you. I keep the light on the crown.
9. The hills and the oaks and the olive trees. Gravel, baby ducks, the formation of clusters on the vine.
10. There are so many things to say. I’ve forgotten to take notes like Dyana told me to. I’m just going to have to trust myself to remember.
Ten.Three Hundred
1. 300. What a number.
2. The sound of my feet on the wooden slats of the porch. There is no way to be quiet.
3. Bird song. But not just some birds but all of the birds and the frogs and the sounds of the sprinklers.
4. Feet crunching on pea gravel.
5. Full on coffee and coffee cake and potatoes and chicken sausage.
6. How I am both tired and exhilarated at the same time.
7. And overwhelmed by all that there is to take in.
8. This is the first time I’ve ever smelled a fresh orange blossom and I want to bottle it up and take it home with me.
9. This circle. So safe.
10. I still don’t know what day it is. But as A’Driane would say, “What is time?”
Ten.Two Hundred & Ninety-Eight
1. 3 a.m. wake up because I just need to know that everything is ready.
2. My Lyft driver is early. I dash upstairs in the dark to kiss all the cheeks.
3. The birds are so loud.
4. He thinks my suitcases are full of clothes and shoes like a typical woman.
5. I misplace my license at the baggage counter and freak out for just a moment.
6. I’m glad my friend and I picked the same flight by accident. We share 4 seats between us and chat a little, sleep a little, write a little.
7. The three of us together navigating San Francisco. Parking and food plus art supplies.
8. The fanciest hotel. We clearly don’t belong here but we have our wine.
9. The sun. The sun. The sun. And the green and the water and these big hill and this feels like home.
10. Steak Frites and 2013 Idell Family Oscar Syrah and a chocolate trifle and a blueberry lemon cake.
Ten.Two Hundred & Ninety-Nine
1. 3:30. Forgot to turn off the airport alarm.
2. Coffee from the lobby and quick walk around the grounds. Overcast skies and big peach-colored roses.
3. Fremont Diner for a good biscuit with sweet marmalade and scrambled eggs and bacon. And Coffee. I finally get a chance to do a photo booth.
4. Flowers.
5. We walk the square. Plump ducks with feathers I wish I could pick. My eyes search the grounds for loose ones I might be able to stick in my pocket.
6. A big salad and an Arnold Palmer. So much sun.
7. Here. The ranch is just as beautiful as I remembered it to be. It always is.
8. Deeply grateful for all that’s to come.
9. So sweaty.
10. Delirium has set in after a long day. Laughter and sleep.
Ten.Two Hundred & Ninety-Five
1. Moody sky. The chatter of the tiny birds.
2. Cereal for breakfast. Luck Charms with flax milk.
3. I love getting children birthday gifts that are not the usual stuff. We pick out a pot, seeds for sweet pea flowers, gardening gloves, and a garden fairy.
4. I try to get a babysitter but remember that it's prom.
5. Emergent Strategy feels like the right read for right now as things begin to shift. Even the words I'm using in my head are changing. They are new words that I don't yet understand but trust that I already know. Learning and unlearning. Observing and honoring the patterns that appear.
6. "More precisely, where shame makes us freeze and try to get really small and invisible, pleasure invites us to move, to open, to grow." - Emergent Strategy
7. Me in between them under the white down, sunlight on my face, the sound of my own breathing.
8. Pizza and Nebbiolo. No mess to clean. Thin and crispy crust gives me pleasure. The acid in the wine gives me pleasure.
9. Pink nails.
10. A few hugs from friends in the old neighborhood. I wonder how good of an idea it is for us to still put in time to maintain these friendships. There is the sense that this is healthy and yet for all of us, each time there is a leaving of the old town or the familiar friend, the wound is once again revealed. How do we hold but a love for the old while engaging and building the new?
Ten.Two Hundred & Ninety-Five
1. Moody sky. The chatter of the tiny birds.
2. Cereal for breakfast. Luck Charms with flax milk.
3. I love getting children birthday gifts that are not the usual stuff. We pick out a pot, seeds for sweet pea flowers, gardening gloves, and a garden fairy.
4. I try to get a babysitter but remember that it's prom.
5. Emergent Strategy feels like the right read for right now as things begin to shift. Even the words I'm using in my head are changing. They are new words that I don't yet understand but trust that I already know. Learning and unlearning. Observing and honoring the patterns that appear.
6. "More precisely, where shame makes us freeze and try to get really small and invisible, pleasure invites us to move, to open, to grow." - Emergent Strategy
7. Me in between them under the white down, sunlight on my face, the sound of my own breathing.
8. Pizza and Nebbiolo. No mess to clean. Thin and crispy crust gives me pleasure. The acid in the wine gives me pleasure.
9. Pink nails.
10. A few hugs from friends in the old neighborhood. I wonder how good of an idea it is for us to still put in time to maintain these friendships. There is the sense that this is healthy and yet for all of us, each time there is a leaving of the old town or the familiar friend, the wound is once again revealed. How do we hold but a love for the old while engaging and building the new?
Ten.Two Hundred & Ninety-Four
1. All the robins and the birdsong of something sweet and small.
2. Sunrise coming up over the Meijer. An early morning run to the store for cereal and milk and just enough food for them to make a lunch.
3. I remember the piece Danielle LaPorte wrote about how much pizza would be a staple in the family's diet when a book deadline rolled around. This is how I'm feeling about life right now. This is a week with a lot of deadlines and a lot of laundry and a lot of meals that I don't feel like making.
4. In the basement I turn on Beyonce and lay out faux flowers on the table, find a paperclip to keep the candle from rolling around.
5. Compliance and Defiance.
6. I want to take a nap but I want to finish this even more.
7. Tonight, I just want to sleep.
8. In the mailbox are two books: Between The World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates and Emergent Strategy by Adrienne Maree Brown.
9. I tell her that I've been trying to figure out how to make her come out from hiding to use her powers. Because there's a younger generation that needs her wisdom.
10. I'm feeling the future.
Ten.Two Hundred & Ninety-Three
1. Thin white blanket over the greening grass.
2. Ranunculus in the windowsill, looking so soft and relaxed.
3. Light. Finally the light.
4. I move my work station around the house, from basement to kitchen to dining room to the boy's bedroom. Always searching for the light.
5. Cravings: bed, another season of Versailles, a large salad.
6. Eating instead: a cheeseburger, fries, a glass of Banshee Pinot Noir, crème brûlée, a cup of coffee.
7. Almost.
8. Because the ache and the knowing are too strong to ignore. I already know the changes that are to come.
9. Still awake.
10. I don't know why I'm turning on the t.v. I find The Twilight Zone and see that the next episode is one that I used to watch over and over and over again with my youngest when he was a toddler. I think of how we would nap in my bed after pre-school so that I could rest before we had to get the older kids to school. So much has changed and yet so much hasn't.
Ten.Two Hundred & Ninety-Three
1. Thin white blanket over the greening grass.
2. Ranunculus in the windowsill, looking so soft and relaxed.
3. Light. Finally the light.
4. I move my work station around the house, from basement to kitchen to dining room to the boy's bedroom. Always searching for the light.
5. Cravings: bed, another season of Versailles, a large salad.
6. Eating instead: a cheeseburger, fries, a glass of Banshee Pinot Noir, crème brûlée, a cup of coffee.
7. Almost.
8. Because the ache and the knowing are too strong to ignore. I already know the changes that are to come.
9. Still awake.
10. I don't know why I'm turning on the t.v. I find The Twilight Zone and see that the next episode is one that I used to watch over and over and over again with my youngest when he was a toddler. I think of how we would nap in my bed after pre-school so that I could rest before we had to get the older kids to school. So much has changed and yet so much hasn't.
Ten.Two Hundred & Ninety-Two
1. Clouds that look like mountains.
2. Birdsong.
3. Bacon and maybe eggs and toast made in the oven because the toaster is broken.
4. Today is for cleaning. For meeting her for lunch. For more cleaning. I need to get the wine off the wall.
5. This is how I show care.
6. The two of us sitting in the cafe, talking about living as a black woman, making friends as an adult black woman, wondering how we find other black women that are here, where we are, staying home and doing what we're doing while living in predominantly white spaces. How it can feel isolating. But at least we now know one another.
7. I grab 6 pre-made tiramisus and two bunches of orange and yellow ranunculus.
8. Everything feels tight.
9. This is all lesson in remembering to always honor the boundaries and to never allow for exceptions. That I do my best work when the container is solid and less permeable.
10. We watch the snow begin to fall, covering the grass and parts of the sidewalk. It's so pretty you almost forget to be mad about it.
Ten.Two Hundred & Ninety-One
1. Why are they all down here?
2. There is not enough time for what needs to be done today.
3. The addition of peanut butter cups and English butter fudge should give everyone a pretty good indication of how I might be feeling. I know it's bad but it's also so good.
4. I call it self-absorption but maybe I've misdiagnosed. Maybe it really is just a personality difference that is not necessarily wrong but a way of being and seeing that feels too foreign for me to understand.
5. My experience with the doctor and her question is generating a lot of feedback which means that we women still struggle with worth and value.
6. I know that we say we value ourselves, but I wonder how large the gap is between believing it and then acting in life as if the belief is really true.
7. Head down and fingers moving madly to get this done in time. My desire to stay on schedule this week is as much about work as it is rest. I want to honor the days of rest I need before taking flight.
8. He tells me that someone got partially sucked out of an airplane window.
9. At Culver's we see teachers and familiar faces, they have friends, and once again I feel out of place and not a part of anything here.
10. I crack open the window but let in no breeze, only the low hum of passing cars on 34.