Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Sixty-Two
Slow.
The decaf pods are here! The decaf pods are here!
I promise myself that I will not think about work today.
Notion templates for the sake of experimentation and organization. Too much for the mind to hold.
Structure. No chaos.
She says her body is sore from coughing so much.
The jays are squawking. Even through the closed windows, they sound like they sitting right above head.
The first one is tomorrow. Optimistic without getting hopes too high.
I’m going to take the time off anyway. I have a feeling I need it.
Cravings.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Sixty-One
Morning light sliding into the room.
I’m going to believe that filling my cup halfway with regular coffee and halfway with hot water is the same as having decaf.
Leftover chili.
She asks me if I know who the dog belongs to. And, of course I do because she’s always running loose. I take her back home. Kona is her name.
College mail.
Whatever that cough is, it sounds like she’s about to give up a lung.
I show her how to know if an email is from a scammer. After all, the name did say “John Doe.”
I always want one more day.
Reminding myself that I can just follow the plan. It doesn’t all have to be figured out roday.
Okay, okay. I’ll eat some key lime pie.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Sixty
The sound of rain on the tree leaves.
Dusti! And a few other names I recognize. Ninety minutes of focus can shift a lot.
I move between the rooms, spraying and wiping, and whispering gratitudes to myself.
It just gives me breathing room.
Fig tart.
The attention is nice, but would we really travel to South Dakota?
This is kind of what I like about this stuff: You don’t really understand it until you’re in it and decide to be a part of it.
His first fumble in his entire career.
34-0 to go 4-0. What fun for them.
A little bit of Parmesan and some crackers, and Halloween Baking Championship before bed.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Fifty-Nine
Today, it doesn’t matter how fast I go.
I see a lot of cars already, but none of them belong to her.
I’m really just here for the snacks. And the decaf pods.
These are the kinds of conversations that inspire me. And I wish I had made more time for them. But maybe it’s not too late.
Talking everyone off the ledge.
Nervous about what these next few months will look like. But only 38 more hours to go.
If you want to be a leader, these are things you must do.
I need a Fever Dream retreat.
“We were resilient.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Fifty-Eight
A sliver of moon and a blanket of stars.
A different route to keep me off the rocks during these dark mornings.
The view coming down the stairs every morning. The changing color of the light. Not even bothered by the pile of laundry that’s been sitting there for days.
Out of pods.
The last time? The last time.
“I want to give myself time for my self.”
I tell her that I just like to have a plan. I don’t like chaos. She says I need to work on my need to control when the chaos becomes too much.
He sends him a text about the Cubs making the playoffs.
Sometimes they have a lot to say.
“Low key, I think you could cook at PUC.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Fifty-Seven
No. I should do it. If I don’t, I’ll regret it. It’s about my mental health.
Flashlight only.
Taking a moment to stare at the sunrise over the Vacas before walking onto the crushpad.
Why does today feel so…easy?
The thing is, once I begin to overthink it, then it no longer becomes fun.
I forgot the extra B on the BLTA.
What would next year look like if nothing changes?
I giggle at her picture of her cup of decaf.
These are just mental mistakes.
“Common enemy is a must.”
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Fifty-Six
It is time.
The fog is thick, magnifying the light from the moon. I don’t need a flashlight this morning.
She’s 16 today, but I feel like she’s been 16 for so long.
It smells like harvest.
I keep reminding her that at the end of the day, we could, but then, what would happen?
She says she has another friend, which brings the number to 29.
A pile of warm, gooey brownies, a gold candle, and a circle of sweaty girls in the weight room singing.
All the momentum, but I’m still missing one piece.
The words behind the words.
Noooooo. Not the mouthguard.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Fifty-Five
Slowly, slowly.
I see a text message asking for a ride up the hill for basketball.
More laundry.
Early morning sun cascading over the hillsides and spilling through the trees.
But, will the timing be right?
A dead hummingbird outside the window.
Longing for that feeling of ease, of not feeling anxious and on edge all the time.
Evaluations.
Cycles.
When you listen, you learn. And if you’re willing to learn, you’ll most likely win.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Fifty-Four
I don’t think I’ve slept in this late in years.
Three decaf pods left.
Sitting in the bleachers, in the sun—again. The perfect weather for a Saturday morning flag game.
Substitutions.
The leave time keeps getting earlier and earlier.
Sitting in traffic and staring at
Yes. It’s supposed to be fun. But all the other things weighing on my mind keep it from being so.
Rudolpho!
These college games sure do have a lot more fanfare than what I remember. Flashing lights, fire and fireworks.
10:15 p.m. in the Chick-fil-A drive-through. He says the prices are almost as bad as Gott’s.
Another night way past my bedtime. Monday will be rough.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Fifty-Three
TGIF.
It’s so dark during these walks that I have to begin them with my flashlight on.
I check my phone expecting/hoping for the meeting to be cancelled. It’s still there, but there’s also still time.
Enough to do what I need, even if they don’t support.
And there it is.
They are exposed; it’s just that no one has figured out what to do about it.
I come in through the back doors of the gym, and I see the stands filled with girls. I’m trying to hide my excitement. I definitely did not get enough pizza.
It’s working.
I'm trying to take these last 10 minutes to vacuum before we leave. I'm stress-sweating before I go and sweat some more.
She says she saw an ambulance and a fire truck and wonders if she should go and check on the neighbor.
The colors of sunset stretched across the sky.
Always the last one out of the locker room.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Fifty-Two
Going slow is better than not going at all.
It’s still so dark. How am I going to solve for this as the season changes?
Yes. More history teachers who teach the truth.
The first door is open, but the second one is locked. I know why.
Sometimes you just need someone to speak the truth so you know you’re not going crazy.
On my fourth cup of decaf, as if it’s going to do something.
I look out the window and see thick, dark gray clouds. It looks like thunder and rain.
Note to self: Stop eating the Sour Patch Kids.
Sometimes it’s just an energy thing.
I catch myself talking myself out of a dream.
7:47 p.m. Golden evening light makes everything glow. I’m quite convinced that there is no other place in the States where the sunsets look like this.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Fifty-One
At least it’s not spitting on me this morning.
Beholden to the whims of mother nature now.
Well. If we haven’t seen him, then he must still be sleeping.
When Mom and Dad are away, the kids get to play.
Good, good news. Great news.
Perhaps the reason we all like LEGOs is one of the reasons why our team gets along.
I’ve always heard stories about people leaving their cell phones in an Uber, but this is the first time I’ve seen it happen in real life.
We walk through the crowds of people. This is the part of being out that I dislike the most—so many people so close to one another.
No. That’s not true. We are doing good work despite the challenges.
On the drive back home, I’m on autopilot and thinking about content for the next year and what it could look like. Then I remember that this is the benefit of a day off: space for creative thought. I need more of these.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Fifty
I can do it.
This feels like rain. Like clouds spitting in my face. I should have worn a hat.
For a moment, I daydream about lighting those last few logs and sitting in front of the fire with a mug of decaf.
We’re overdue for coffee.
These boxes mean more than just new uniforms.
She’s here!
We have a plan for tomorrow, even though we’d all rather be sick.
Creamy tortellini soup.
I always forget how windy these roads are and how many more times I’ll have to grip onto this door.
Sit quietly in the front, and you get to understand so much more.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Forty-Nine
I don’t really want to get out of bed, but I know I need to.
The sunrise is always worth it.
Putzing around the office in the dark. Memories of my old office and how quiet it was and how much it glowed from the natural light.
Gummy bears and sour patch kids.
The introvert’s fear of being unable to escape a group social event.
I correctly identify the piece as Chopin, which makes me want to put on my Spotify channel.
Orange sherbet for clouds.
His seat is leaned so far back and I’m sure that the only reason he can see above the steering wheel is because he’s over six feet tall.
White and red and black.
I pick up a pile of his clothes and think about him a little younger, a little smaller. And I think about that time I took him to get photos when he was a baby, and those cheeks and blue eyes.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Forty-Eight
After a day of standing and then a day of sitting, I could really use the stretch.
Headstand. Body memory. I keep staring at that body print of the bird on the window.
Sunday feels like it’s slipping away. Resisting the urge to run. Creating more boundaries around my time.
There is still plenty of time.
I am so tired I can barely stand. I fold the top part of my body onto my bed in the empty space between the folded towels and socks, and close my eyes.
Can I keep my eyes open long enough?
He calls them every week. I’m glad they usually answer.
We agree that we should make more garlic bread.
I drag out my camera and tripod to try to capture the moon. Too much light. Blurry. I wish I had it in my hand more often.
I can’t wait for sleep.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Forty-Seven
Must get up.
I forget that I’m still in my towel when I go downstairs to wake the girls.
I love these cool mornings with the fog and decaf in an open mug.
This is the longest set I’ve ever heard of: more than an hour long, a score of 39-37.
It’s not that they can’t. They’re just worried that they won’t.
The breeze blows and the sun is out and I say out loud, “I love living in California.”
Straight outta St. Helena.
How did it take five years to go to my first lobster boil?
“Sometimes you gotta let these kids hit they head.”
Going to be so tired tomorrow during yoga.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Forty-Six
The fog is too thick for me to seen the moon setting.
Hip clicking.
Five cups of decaf.
I see the email and realize it’s going to be another fire-drill-Friday.
He talks about how much food his three-year-old ate the other day, and I think to myself, just wait. Just wait.
Count your gratitudes.
She stops by to grab his jersey for the game. So very high school.
I had forgotten how hot the sun feels when you’re in the visitor stands. No shade in sight. Just melting. Melting.
Friday night lights.
He says that he hates this school, but we agree that the field had a really beautiful backdrop, especially as the sun sets.
I think this time the numbers match up. I hope. I just want some sleep.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Forty-Five
The fog this morning is extra thick, blocking out the morning light.
I hear the turkey behind me.
Identifying the block.
It’s all a choice.
But actually, I did miss seeing them in person.
I forgot my tortilla chips.
I read the summary, the analysis of her, and the situation. It makes me think of what else I need to do to prepare.
He asks me if he’s coming back. I say no. But I’ve got a good one on the line. Another really good fit.
No service in the gym. Probably for the better.
Sixty days.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Forty-Four
I keep forgetting that he stole my dumbbells.
Dark enough that I have to use my phone as a flashlight.
I tell them I keep wanting to tell everyone that phrase from Mean Girls, “Stop trying to make fetch happen!”
We’re getting to the point where it’s a little embarrassing.
Find joy.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen an ankle at that angle.
He can’t let go.
“I can’t believe I’m old enough to be called an unc.”
“I’m going to do everything this year. It’s my senior year.”
Giggles all around. But we’re missing one.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Forty-Three
An overcast morning. Not fog, but cloud cover. Humid.
Just when the light got good. I don’t want to go.
He texts me to tell me that he actually did rest yesterday.
I was not expecting anyone to be here.
The air conditioning is so freaking loud.
If we’re all confused, then we are the problem.
I step outside and remember why I never check the mail. Up the hill and around the corner.
Maybe it wasn’t the right time or the right conversation.
“Most people avoid hard things, which is why you beat most people just by trying.” - The Art of Impossible
Massively Transformative Purpose = BIG DREAM