what pleases me.
- finally getting my former mother in law on the phone. she remembers me. and we laugh like no time has passed. she threatens to kill me and I almost pee myself. This is the goodness, the love.
- growing things. watering the plants and watching them change. remembering what waters me and how i change, despite appearances.
- lighting a candle when i’m working. boy, does it draw me in. so ancient a tool.
- the feeling of water filling me up and spilling out my ears when i think i might not be able to hear her voice on the phone many more times. (its not pleasing, no, but the satisfaction is that the grief is not here yet. i will not borrow it early.)
- my elders getting vaccinated.
- palettes. pallets. palettes. food, paint, food, paint. trucks.
- using my new workspace and staring at the bookshelves. the words i can pick out over there are like this: dragons, ice, ashes, frost, fire, dawn. It is its own fantasy. There is also auden, o’connor, rowling, smithsonian, sibley, brewer, and keene.
- I’m taking my christmas tree down, a little earlier than planned, honestly. because i need the space for the next season, the new growth. i’ll have to live with the discomfort of the empty space for a little bit before i fill it again. isn’t that always the way?
- a bath. a bath always pleases me. today i will cry about my mother-in-law, despite my not borrowing grief. i’m not, i’m really not. i have bath bombs and salts. and hot water. and that’s all that i need.
- it pleases me that i made it to ten. that i’m wearing two sweaters and a scarf and i feel naked without my hat. it pleases me that i’m letting go of so many things, and i can see how many more there are to go. and then there will be that unbearable lightness. and i will float like a feather on a breeze.
that is the shortlist, my lovies. the life is good. and rich and full of tragedy and more life than we can handle. isn’t it, though?