Ten.Two Hundred & Thirty-Eight

1. The weight of this gray. 

2. Jordan Marsh’s Blueberry Muffins. I make some without the blueberries for the younger ones. They are missing out.  

3. I go back to bed with coffee and Sabbath. My eyes are heavy.  

4. I listen to an episode of On Being on my way to Riverside for a photo shoot. It’s a woman who explores the deep ocean. She also doesn’t eat fish. I find it funny but it makes sense. What do we change about our way of being as our awareness changes? What sacrifices are we willing to make? 

5. It’s windy and cold. My fingers are getting numb and I’m fumbling with the controls on my camera.  

6. Sips of earl gray between outfit changes. 

7. She pulls the dreamer card for me. How fitting.  

8. I can barely keep my eyes open for this drive home. Borderline dangerous. 

9. I tell him that maybe the fatigue is still a residual effect of the sinus infection from the week before. Maybey body is just asking for more time to heal.  

10. But there is no extra time. I’m back on a plane again in less than a week. There is a whole house that needs care and attention. There are five bodies that need to be fed and hydrated. There are people and projects to whom I wish to give whole-hearted attention.  

Ten.Two Hundred & Thirty-Seven

1. The upside to these braids is that I don’t have to do much else in the morning.

2. There are two owls and they are very loud. I think of them as messengers in this time of my life where I need to trust my own wisdom the most. 

3. Him taking the kids to school feels as good as a massage.  

4. I don’t like how unready I feel to be back home. I can’t think of what to make for us to eat. The mess has scattered itself around the house and there is not one clean corner. I take my bloated belly back to bed.

5. I meditate for 15 minutes in hopes that this will fix it.  

6. Fever Dreams.  

7. Blankness.  

8. But maybe I ought to just be a poet.  

9. Unfollow. Unfollow. Unfollow.  

10.  “Sabbath dissolves the artificial urgency of our days, because it liberates us from the need to be finished.”

Ten.Two Hundred & Thirty-Six

1. Up. 

2. Raindrops on windows. The sounds of life beginning again.

3. I make granola before I realize that we are out of both milk and yogurt and must think of what to make instead. I opt to make a pot of oats, sweetened with the last drops of maple syrup and small heaps of cinnamon. I know that no one will eat it but me and the tallest son. The other two choose toast and butter and a handful of blueberries.

4. Back in bed under the covers with a cup of coffee. Sabbath by Wayne Muller. "Sabbath dissolves the artificial urgency of our days, because it liberates us from the need to be finished."

5. I am conscious of my use of this word, "Sabbath." Worried that I am co-opting and simplifying a sacred word that is more than word. And yet I can't help but want to cover myself in it and all that it means. 

6. She brings sunflowers. Her thoughtfulness challenges me. I am glad to be with her, here, in this moment. I needed the connection. 

7. It feels as though the layers of wholeness I'd built up while away are beginning to thin. And this is bound to happen when you return before you're ready. When are we ever ready? I am craving more space and time to process and integrate and realizing that there is none. Maybe integration will occur during these periods of rest throughout my day. 

8. It is also hard to shift something while you're in it.

9. I think back to when Naomi Shihab Nye said to me, "And you're a poet right?" And how I said, "Well, I'm a writer." Next time someone asks me if I am a poet, I will say "yes" and really mean it.

10. It's just that I didn't realize how badly I'd been missing this.

Ten.Two Hundred & Thirty-Five

1. I can feel that I’ve sweat through my shirt.  

2. It’s only been 3.5 hours since I fell asleep and I feel like maybe I ought to take a shower. I need to get something for breakfast too. The sound of the rain coming down.

3. I don’t have my first cup of coffee until it’s time to leave. It’s hot and spilling over the sides. 

4. I’m too tired to tell them all that transpired over the last 4 days. I don’t have the words yet. I don’t know when I will. All I know is that my head feels full. 

5. Today feels like I’m just going through the motions. 

6. It’s still raining.  

7. Laundry and chicken tortilla soup in bed.  

8. All I know is that change is required.  

9. What I really want to do is sleep, not go to basketball practice.  

10. Another shower. Another glass of water. Sleepy time tea because of course now I am no longer tired.  

Ten.Two Hundred & Thirty-Four

1. Up before the alarm. Moving around with only the light of my phone, trying to not wake her.  

2. I’m winded by the time I get up the hill to the parking lot where the car is. I blame it on the wedges. 

3. Naomi Shihab Nye is sitting right beside me at breakfast. I want to be talking to her but find myself captivated by conversation with Lucas and Lisa. And they are radiating a tenderness that I find so very compelling.  

4. Palestine.  

5. I don’t know this name and I am not particularly excited to hear him talk until he starts reading haiku and it makes me think of the women in liberated lines and I’m tickled.

6. I’ve never paid attention to America Ferrera before but I will after today. 

7. David Whyte, with his black pants tucked messily into, his slouchy black boots sends us off with a poem. This one I record.

8. I hug Tibeyo because I think he might need it and because there are many others I would hug but I can’t find them and I need to go.  

9. The ride to San Francisco is easy. Traffic on 17, 85 and 101 is light. The sun is shining and I am crying. I’ve cried a little every day since I arrived. Getting here wasn’t easy. Being here wasn’t easy. Leaving is never easy.

10. It’s a good thing I meditated this morning. 

10.1 Airport sushi and an Ichiban. Prompt writing. An aisle seat in the back with another black woman named Alecia. He gives us each two bottles of wine and a snack box for free because he can and he wants to and sometimes that’s what brothers and sisters do for each other.  

10.2 Home.  

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