Ten.Two Hundred & Forty-Two

1. Late.  

2. I fill two containers with coffee—one for me and one for Dad when he gets in the car. 

3. The sun is playing peek-a-boo with the clouds and the dead grass on the bern is gold and gray, half alive and half dead. 

4. Yes to carving corners of quiet.  

5. The slow release of this dream, a little bit at a time with each breath.  

6. I think back to sitting in the sanctuary with Sylvia Boorstein and how she said it’s easier to relax your face for meditation if you first put a little smile on your face.  

7. No. 

8. He asks Pop Pops to play horse. I have the house to myself for just a little bit. I put on music and keep stirring: there’s pot for spaghetti sauce, one for the leftover chicken noodle soup, and I push around the granola in the oven. Cooking my way back into a rhythm of trust. 

9. So many things I want to talk about with them because all of what I learned is related to this experience of this circle. But there will be time and space for more of these kinds of conversations. 

10. I still need to pack.