10 Notices. Ten.

1. he (re)compound fractured his left wrist, again, skateboarding, and the plate and pins they put in last time looked like they were going to pop through his skin. surgery friday.

2. went straight from the ER to my house to shove random inappropriate clothing in a bag, and rushed to the airport for my flight to Ottawa.  made it. 

3. Golden Lake, our cabin, hot sun, old friends.

4. Orphan Wisdom School is another epic gift i allowed myself during my divorce.  thank goddess i said YES.

5. this man, these people, this land, these teachings, this time, these offerings. 

6. let it be known i have never paid to nor chosen to proverbially sit at the feet of man, until Stephen Jenkinson came along. it was the right choice. holy holy. 

7. suffering is a skill and we are are numbing out to it. its part of the deal of being human. let me suffer. 

8." the wild is not a petting zoo for the human soul"

9. if the wild rose up in defense of itself and destroyed everything that compromises it, would we consider it humane?

10. orphan wisdom school forensic audit method. word. 

10 Notices. Nine.

1. i'm apparently not able to make these notices a daily practice like i'd hoped but instead of beat myself up over it, i'm going to show up to it as i can and let that be enough.  thank you. 

2. all the wood for heating my house next winter was delivered and is now stacked in the woodshed. makes me feel like a badassmuthafucker.

3. i'm critical, bossy, demanding, accusatory, and a total basic bitch. it's a problem. gonna get right on it. i want to love myself even more. 

4. Gus and i went today, on Mother's Day, to get tattoos for his 23rd birthday. He got the eagle and i got the candle. Kirsten showed up and Gus took both of us to lunch for mother's day. Which made her tear up, then me tear up. So sweet. So good. and returned home to the gift of a climbing orange colored rose from jasper. swoon. my boys. 

5. Fever Dreams are kinda off the charts right now. like, download central, creative ideas going bananas. so much possibility. but which thread, which to tug on?

6. another olive branch. pleasepleaseplease. nope. what a tool. 

7. keeping our distance, turning inward. creating space for break down and dissonance. leaning toward myself, for myself. i am for myself. i want all of me. 

8. nude sun bath while no one is home, before school is out for the summer. my front deck is falling apart but its one of my favorite spots here. 

9. leaving for Orphan Wisdom School tomorrow, for our third of four gatherings. going in deep, saturated and sublime. i will be a different person on monday. 

10. my first podcast interview with Daphne on The Creativity Habit.  all the feels and lots of healing tears to hear me tell parts of my story. grateful.

10 Notices. Eight.

1. his surgery lasted over 7 hours and now he needs to heal so they can begin chemo. and then they still need to deal with the throat cancer that came back. fucking cancer. 

2. my mom asked me to stay the night with her in her hotel. we ate creamy sugar pea carbonara and briny puttanesca over homemade noodles and shared a bottle of wine at Bizarro. 

3. "Don't you think we should go back to the hotel room, get comfy and drink whiskey?" she said. 

4. we talk until 2am and pass out. when dad calls at 7am, she answers, talks, then falls back asleep. we both do. 

5. we awake at 9, don't shower, and go over to the hospital. the hospital is full of great art and i find myself entirely grateful for that fact. 

6. we do a couple laps with him and his walker and everyone is being so friendly, not weirdly, just nicely, and i notice it. 

7. yesterday an entire shelving situation very suddenly detached from my kitchen wall and came crashing down, breaking a ton of my favorite glass and ceramic kitchen tools and talismans that had been displayed and housed within for a very long time. it just all of a sudden decides to jump off the wall. wtf. total disastrous mess with tiny shards of glass ev.er.y.where. and a tea and flower water and computer combo that was no good. detach, unfold, release, expand. repeat. 

8. clay Mother Mary rattles.

9. hawthorn. the sweet smell of death and decay. ancestral. of the heart. jasper's totem tree, his middle name, 3 planted in our yard. she marks mother's day each year and gives good medicine. she loves people and she grows where they invite her, found in old hedgerows and hollers. thank you hawthorn. we love you. 

10. i'm kinda trying to ignore the download, the one skirting the edges, skulking in my periphery, almost fully formed but not necessarily attentionable. what if we wanted to try it? what would it take? how do you crunch numbers on something like that? how do you get the gig? 

10 Notices. Seven.

1. 6:30am yoga. not enough sleep but i go anyway.

2. 6:30am ecstatic dance starts next tuesday. seriously. i'm going. 

3. a long rare phone convo felt delicious and affirming.

4. birthing more bee rattles and using rosewater in my spritzer bottle.

5. teenage angst is testing my patience. deep breaths. 

6. two food items i can't get enough of right now: lemon tahini dressing on everything and basil pesto on rice ramen noodles. 

7. i need to remember to run this business idea by her. it could be a goodie. 

8. surgery took about 6 hours but he is in recovery now and once they got his pain managed, he was doing good. the surgeons feel great about it. best news ever. 

9. i laid the huge map of southern france out across my bed and put little sticky notes next to all the places i've listed in my notes, places to possibly visit that i've discovered in my own research or recommendations from others. narrowing down where to stay near or on the côte d'azur. its hard to choose and makes me wish i could stay 3 months instead of one. 

10. noticing where my white fragility gets bruised. examining what my beliefs area around shame being used as a transformational tool, wether i buy in or not. wishing all women could band together and commit to always uplifting all women. maybe naive but still a wish.  

10 Notices. Six.

1. watched a movie about eastern indian arranged marriage last night and am also listening to padma lakshmi's book called Love, Loss and What We Ate.  love these glimpses into indian culture and it makes me long for Varanasi, specifically. oh India, i miss you. 

2. we were supposed to leave the cabin by noon but it was the perfect weather for a walk so we wandered to the beach and visited devils club, bleeding hearts, forget me not and maiden hair fern along the way. 

3. our cabin is off a two lane highway that goes over a major mountain pass. summer traffic has started and because we didn't leave the cabin by noon, we crawled down the mountain like unseasoned tourists. 

4. we stopped at the barn again, one of his clients family land and structures that are being bulldozed for a school building project. every time we go back, we find more treasures. this time loads of amethyst and quartz crystals from their rock hounding days. 

5. i wish we could take the barn apart piece by piece and rebuild it somewhere secluded and private into a house/studio combo. 

6. he loves to cook and he made us a chop salad with bacon, salami, chick peas, avocado, tomatoes, and parm with a lemon tahini dressing. i die. 

7. he volunteered to mow my entire huge massive ridiculous lawn for me while i went to visit my beloved bonus dad. 

8. when he can eat ice cream before bed again every single night, like he has since (and i'm certain before) he married my mom when i was 13, everything will be back to normal. fuck.

9. i hugged and kissed him. he cried. i listened. reflected. then cried on the way home. fuck.

10. a shower. butter popcorn for dinner. janelle monáe loud. 

10 Notices. Five.

1. the constant sound of rushing river water lulls me. it's hypnotic and soothing. 

2. steel cut oats with cacao nibs, nuts and seeds, and fresh berries. could be dessert. 

3. in bed til almost noon. its what happens at the cabin. more liminal. less linear. 

4. weeding, culling, sorting, composting, dumping. mother nature never stops trying to reclaim what's hers.

5. the lilacs up here are still in tight buds. i hope i don't miss their bloom. 

6. i'm going to live in the south of france for a month this summer. and i am playing enny meeny miny moe with where to seek shelter for a 5-10 day stretch on the mediterranean coast: Languedoc, Provence, Côte d'Azur areas. i wish i knew of a sleepy little village that i could tuck into.

7. i'll see my bonus dad tomorrow, the day before his pancreatic cancer surgery. i know i'm holding my breath a little. waiting to exhale. 

8. we found a potato bug crawling along the wall by the bed and they said don't kill it and then they took it outside to release it. do no harm. 

9. one of the top five best things about staying at the cabin: sleeping naked.

10. the cabin is a magic portal. during my divorce i received so much healing in spending time here and every time i had to leave i sobbed. i no longer sob when i leave but i do go away feeling healed and more whole. time in nature, escaped from the rat race, is the best. 

10 Notices. Four.

1. bowls of electric purple violets. for sheer beauty and medicine making. 

2. fried chicken and rice noodle ramen and basil pesto and sun-dried tomatoes and shaved parm. salty food orgasm.

3. i swear the bind weed grows a foot a day. fuckers. 

4. he gave him the 1995 grateful dead t-shirt for his 23rd birthday. the shirt from the show he was at when he was two weeks old. what a long strange trip its been. 

5. two nights at the cabin. cold enough for a fire. raging river background music. mountains.

6. hands in clay, listening to podcasts, humming bird grandmother zipping in to check on me.  this is just my life now. 

7. its her 80th birthday soon and i'm trying to fly to montana to be with her. i wish i may, i wish i might. 

8. cancer...who are you and what do you want? i'd like to say go fuck yourself but really i want to know, who are you, what are you , and why... what do you want us to be attentionable too?

9. 6:30am ecstatic dance tuesdays. dance me to the end of love. 

10. he stopped paying child support again. no rhyme or reason. and i will still pay the mortgage and buy groceries and be the chauffeur. like we do. who run the world? girls.  

10 Notices. Three.

1. fell asleep writing out my ten notices from yesterday, last night. so i'm showing up now to keep noticing and going my own way.

2. picking violets and bouquets of wild flowers while on a buy, because beauty hunting is contagious.

3. that Vincent School House is pretty much my dream house. i wonder what compels me to want to live in an old school house? maybe the huge windows all around. 

4. what's yours is mine and what's mine is mine. always and forever.

5. his surgery is monday to remove the tumor from his pancreas. we all have all the feels.

6. like mother like son. first walls, then vulnerability. sorry not sorry. 

7. its ok to bust through the toxic masculinity you've been straddled with. it makes you strong, not weak. 

8. berry crumble for dinner.

9. watering seeds and marveling at the fact that all the plant needs to become itself is all contained in these tiny seeds. its fascinating.

10. vivid dreams and less sweating. still no blood. 

10 Notices. Two.

1. 6:30am yoga monday, wednesday, and friday. if i'm home, i'm there. 

2. washing antique insulators in the sun, in my bikini, while my shoulders burn.

3. the bees are happy. i am happy. 

4. it was Beltane and it was consecrated. 

5. i stole the lilacs and i don't feel bad, i feel liberated, and so do they. 

6. Paris shelter is secured. 5 weeks in France. who do i think i am? 

7. digging through boxes in the basement and barn of a "buy". finding all the things. 

8. the palomino. want.

9. his driving. i'm chaperoned. and its not relaxing. 

10. another buy first thing in the morning and we get to drive by the Vincent School House again. but not with cookies, but maybe with yerba mate. 
 

10 Notices. One

1. i can build whatever i want. even a house. 

2. peanut butter cookie and yerba mate while driving past the Vincent School House.  Gotta get inside there.

3. by noon i was raw and weepy. re-entry is tough shit. 

4. fever dreams collective was off the charts. it was a million times better than i expected. and i expected it to be really fucking good. the women. oh, the women. i love them so much. 

5. they both make lists every single day and with their encouragement, i'm trying it. look out. 

6. he wants babies, and horses. i die.

7. unpacking to pack again in two weeks. who do i think i am? 

8. janelle monae. hot.

9. bees, gardening, pottery, groceries, skate park, driving school. we have things to do tomorrow.

10.  the wet spot dried.