Tuesday, July 7, 2020

a post.

I'm writing to you from the couch. It's a dark and rainy summer afternoon. 

There are only two things I like about summer: crepe myrtles and thunderstorms, and I was lucky enough to experience both today. 

A lot has been happening in my life recently, and I feel like I'm in a period of flux, of transition, and if you know me, you know I royally suck at transitions. I can prepare, I can meditate on it, I can make nearly-tangible plans. It doesn't matter. If things are changing around me, I feel like the mental depiction of a cat thrown into bath water. 

A member of my family passed away as spring was turning into summer this year. A combination of factors keep me from being present, something that makes things feel unfinished. 

Opportunities and ideas and creativity have been swirling around in our house this year. Unable to travel, we sit tethered to our home, and the ideas come, bringing with them excitement and hope and at times, overwhelm. My thoughts feel jumbled, and I am working daily to disentangle the good stuff from the chaos. 

But aside from that and other things, I know that... 

... both ice cream and cereal taste better from coffee mugs. 

... writing daily - even just a little bit, even a tiny scribble in the margins of a planner - is transformative. 

... working out daily - even if only for ten minutes - is also transformative in ways I wasn't previously aware of. Pilates is my favorite, followed by barre. What's yours? 

... there is value in being as direct as possible. I am a sugar-coater to my core, but I am working on saying things and expressing my opinions more plainly. I think sometimes I give off the impression that I have no opinion, but that couldn't be further from the truth. 

... it is important to get outside. Despite being, in Jack Dawson's words, "kind of an indoor girl," I can't quite describe the benefits I feel from walking outside for a little while. As a mother of two children, I recognize the benefit to them as well. 

... I will always come back here, to this place, to this holder of memories. And every time I return, the inspiration is there, waiting for me, like an old, time-worn friend. 

the back and forth.

Justin had to turn on the air conditioner again last night.  It's October 26 - doesn't that mean the heater can stay on? Doesn't...