dear reader, it’s a windy day here in Central Texas and there is an impending “cold front” blowing in, I guess as I type this. there is a frantic and chaotic energy that I always associate with the wind. perhaps I have watched “The Holiday” too many times or just growing up in CA and knowing the Santa Ana winds or some other third thing that I am not quite aware of, no matter— this windy day has me wanting more and more to plant my feet on the earth and take stock of what is.
i am a little out of practice in writing these missives but maybe it’s more that with my time off, i am meeting you with fresh eyes, a full heart, and a clear mind. this week was filled with beauty and perfectly timed moments along with a healthy dose of “receiving” messages as I need them while also transmitting encouragement to others.
dear reader, be kind to me as I get back into my ritual with writing you. there are new ways of me showing up here and things I am going to slowly shift. as always, these are stream of conscious, memories, being relayed and I am only human— open to error and typos. beyond all of that, it is a great pleasure to be back in your inbox.
xo, liz
Lunch Date
we are trying to decide if Tuesday’s will be standing lunch date.
not only because it’s nice to have the one on one time with him, but also queso and “go fish” is probably way better than sitting in a noisy cafeteria.
he tells me a joke.
asks for a card, I say go fish.
he pulls the card.
he asks for something else, I say go fish.
he gets something else he wanted.
I ask, he tells me go fish.
I pull it. I ask for something else.
he tells me go fish. I pull something else I wanted.
round and round we go, our intuition on fire and laughing the whole time.
he won. but he doesn’t rub it in. he tells me, mom I know you let me win.
I smile, it’s not quite true, it’s not quite wrong either.
we should do this more, he tells me.
I agree. Tuesday might be our day.
Perfect timing
it was just five minutes.
big little happened to be with me as we made a quick stop.
A wasn’t feeling his best, but I still had a few things to do.
we ran into someone from the bookshop who was there with their partner.
our whole interaction was a blip in the day, but somehow it felt big.
A asked a question about what grade would they teach and it was just this little bit of curiosity that set some action. A said later “ he would be a great teacher, you should encourage them to go back to school.” “mom, make sure you tell him I said so.”
the next day in line for coffee, I saw them and shared what A had said.
”my partner also pointed out how cool that was. so I think i’m going to do it.”
it means a lot to have a 13 year old be curious. it means a lot to have his opinion.
sometimes, people have an impact and it’s kinda nice to remember that.
That Full moon was FULL MOONING
wow, wow, WOW.
I don’t know what it was about that full moon, but truly it hit me like a ton of bricks. I mean, I am such a “have you seen the moon tonight” kinda girlie, a “wow, she’s beautiful” kinda person.
I have been wanting to be more intentional about looking out at the moon, to take her in and appreciate her.
this full moon reminded me of the song I taught the boys when they were little.
something made up because it felt important.
”I see the moon and the moon she sees me,
sometimes she’s hiding behind the big tree.
she’s always chang-ing
sometimes she’s big and oh so bright,
sometimes she’s hiding in plain sight.”
we would sing this as we watched the moon in all her phases, the light filtering in from behind a big tree we had in the front yard. I had wanted them to have curiosity about the night sky. about the ways we tracked time before calendars, before some external force told us the days. and now, I want to have that for myself.
Fill your bowl
nourishment is important.
i’m seeing more and more the importance of this,
the value in taking in nourishing things.
food, books, friends, songs.
not everything is made to make you feel good and it is my job to notice how things “feel.” before, during, and after.
fall is a season of filling the bowl/cup.
it’s the season of making sure we all have what we need and are doing the things we know to do.
I make a list.
”what do I know to do, that i’m not doing?”
”what am I doing that I know not to do?”
this isn’t to fix or change, but simple observe.
more water, less coffee.
walk more, scroll less.
life is how you create it,
fill your bowl.
The West Calls
on Friday night, I was at a book event with some people who started Ballroom Marfa— an art gallery of sorts, and Lyle Lovett was the moderator. it was a great conversation to listen in on and there was something Lyle said that has stuck with me:
“When you are out west, Marfa, you feel everything.”
I felt that way too when I was there, the first time and every time since.
my last trip out there, bear and I went to go sleep in a tepee.
on the drive out, when the landscape shifted into it’s desert terrain and clouds loomed overhead, bear expressed “mama, look. it’s the most beautiful sky.”
he loves the desert, the space and beauty that lies there.
a place that feels like it could be the surface of the moon and was probably once the bottom of the ocean. there is a lot there. and it does bring up feelings.
to hear other people talk about how special Marfa is, how far west Texas feels like the place to write and make art, felt like a good reminder that an 8-hr drive can put me some place that I can be secluded enough to just write and not be distracted. a reminder of the beauty and magnificence of feelings being felt
and expressed.
A return
this season, I see the theme of life has taken a turn.
so often over the last year, I have put all of my focus on the boys and how to get them to bloom while neglecting or putting much further down the list my own blooming. what am I putting in the soil?
what am I watering?
my intention, my internal words, my time!
I have time, I have some resources:
what am I doing with them?
and is it what I want to be doing? if not, why then?
I am in edits for the novel. I am getting intentional about my food and hydration.
I am finding my way back to exercise and movement.
there is a remembering that if I want things to be a way, then I can make that happen. if I don’t want to be rushed, why am I rushing?
if I want to be around more creatives, then am I doing things that put me there?
at the beginning of this year, I thought it would be a “question” year, but i’m discovering that it is actually an answer year.
what a great surprise!
This week’s book(s):
I love a good book, dear reader and have often tried to include them in my list.
going forward, I will be sharing at least one book that I read each week. to be clear, I read and do audiobooks. in the shuffle to drop off the boys at school and then pick them up, plus getting anywhere else in town, I listen to audiobooks.
whatever your opinion is about whether audiobooks count (they do to me) in your reading count, don’t let me know.
this week, I finished “The Friend” and “Autobiography of Red.”
Both are short(er) books, Red is poetry.
This season, for me, really calls for a short book that can drop me into the world quickly and move me to the core. The Friend details a woman’s life taken over by a Great Dane her former mentor/lover left behind after his suicide. She’s a writer who was deeply influenced by him and it hits grief and life in such a beautiful way. Not to mention, the poor dog has anxiety and living with him in a small NYC apartment has its own problems.
Autobiography of Red is a long poem about Geryon from greek mythology and that’s all I will say about it, except that it’s beautiful and moving and if you liked Circe or A thousand ships, you should pick this up!
dear reader, what tiny joys are you discovering as the weather changes and the light shifts? are you finding cozy ways of being or still clinging tightly to your summer ways? what are you reading?what are you doing with your precious life?
