Oh, hi friends!
Writing after time away always feels strange—
No, start over.
California was wonderful. Restorative, happy—
No, start over.
How does one find a dropped thread, much less the dexterity to pick it up—
Definitely not, start over.
Maybe you can't create something great if you're stretched into a thin layer—
No, again.
Starts and stops, breaks and diversions, memories and musts.
And the world goes 'round.
Then, when you're back, you show up.
Once and then again.
Yes, that's it.
Halting and imperfect, sleepy and searching.
But you show up.
Once and then again.
You're here.
It’s Monday.
You’re showing up.
The Monday poem we all needed
I have to say that your e-mails are being more than welcome in this time of my life. I'm struggling with writing my masters' dissertation and it's a grateful surprise just to open my e-mail and see messages like that. It reminds me that I'm doing something even if it feels like I'm not. Today it took me 3 hours to write a single paragraph.