1. i stayed up deep into the night on tuesday, stumbled around the house until after 1am, and woke on wednesday feeling relieved and elated about this country's election. now, i hold my breath and then i exhale hope.
2. i'm still not feeling free of the weight of the world. i am still worrying incessantly about what i'll do from week to week to bring food to the table, electricity to the lamps. but yes, i have a roof over my head. i still do, while others tragically do not. this roof keeps out the rain and holds the warmth, and one day, it kept out the snow.
3. i know i do better when i have the laughter of a friend to blanket me. i'm used to handling being alone much better than being in the company of someone, anyone, but lately those tendencies have been reversed.
4. night is still my salvation. i relish sundown, and let the quiet of the dark outside my window be a form of gentle meditation.
5. i continue to walk the river several times a week. yesterday, we walked in the rain. we were the only ones on the trail, and i could feel the fine drops dampening my hair, my face; i savored this.
6. i have dreamed of my father twice this week. i miss him even more than i had realized in my waking hours.
7. i dreamed of my old pup aspen, who is likely running boyish circles around my father in some beautiful sunlit meadow.
8. i've slept the past two nights without waking a single time. i've slept the sleep of someone who lays her head down on a pillow and drifts off without once turning over until the light of morning comes.
9. into my back pocket, at the river's edge, i continue to collect smooth stones; i favor the ones that are smooth and curved on the sides, flat underneath. they are my water-worn talismans. i will do with them what any nature-loving artist would do; i tuck them away and carry them back to this house, where they patiently rest in collective little piles.
10. kindness and patience with/for myself is what i am striving to achieve. xo