there is dntel playing in the background, tanzanian peaberry in my coffee cup, a pen tucked into a blue literary criticism textbook, navy polish on my fingernails, a burn on the top of my tattooed foot. my life is strange sometimes. yesterday morning, i woke up, ate two bowls of post-select (doesn’t the word select always make your breakfast seem nicer) with soymilk, heated honey before applying it to my face—and managed to slosh scalding honey onto my foot. now i wear a funny, stinging red mark and i smile when i see it, because it’s typical of me.
my life is heavy in routine right now. which is odd, because i flew 5,000 miles back home from alaska this summer, craving the freedom my summer schedule never really allowed me—yet, lately, i’m taking comfort in patterns, the regularity of to-do lists. i have attempted to start this blog post for weeks now. something about my alaska experience changed me. seventy-six nights of sleeping in a tent, seventy-six letters from massachusetts, mountains, people, trial, rawness.
there are so many intense longings i carry daily. i am learning how to balance, how to temper dreams with patience, how to seek contentment. fall, beautiful beautiful dizzying fall, is here again, making me even more restless and giddy.
once, this blog was a record of my days and a collection of my musings. for a time, it progressed to short short stories and sometimes poems…but that time is gone, for now. i needed those stories, needed a way to write about my life without writing about it. maybe this is a way of easing into it. maybe i’ll finally be able to blog again.