This Morning

It is snowing, fat flakes in that strange and swirly dance, and I wonder what makes the visual of snowfall so appealing to the eye. I am listening to Joni Mitchell, not ironically or to win popularity points, but because I have a running list of artists I dip into when bored and needing to listen to something new. For me, Joni Mitchell is new.

My coffee tastes strange, and I realize it was the onions from breakfast that are interfering with the taste, the fried onions over eggs with a salsa I made two days ago, a mash of what we had on hand.

I am coughing, wheezing. It's been a week now, a week of sickness. I am hardly complaining - I'm rarely ill. I keep remarking on how odd I feel, this foreign feeling of being weak and defeated by my own body.

I am thinking about purpose, travel, contentment, and goals. I am reading and re-reading the page I wrote, in my clearest cursive so I could read the words easily, of the things I want to do in the coming year, because I don't shrug off resolutions and goals as silliness, I believe they matter and keep me working, trying, on the cusp of my own version of greatness and purpose. To have none means I have given up.

I am making lists, lists of books that teach me something, anything. I am taking suggestions, feel free to leave anything in the comments section below.

My wife and I took up a table for a few hours yesterday, at the busiest brunch place in our neighborhood, on a Sunday morning, talking - no small feat for two easily distracted humans - about my desire to take some time away from social media, and our summer travels, and then we were just talking, talking about all of the things we haven't said one word about to one another yet, about what we did and what we want and then she was crying and I was fighting the little pricks of water threatening to tumble, and we knew, at once, what we needed to do and where we go from here, even if we don't yet know how.

I am trying to decipher myself, convincing myself it is okay to still be evolving - to not know yet, even though societal pressure is strong and unwavering.

I am still sad. My wife is sad, our daughter is sad. BUT - we are working on changing that, not giving up what we want and seeking to satisfy our traveling souls.


  • Explore the East Coast. Make it to Maine and maybe even Prince Edward Island. Spend the summer in a new Airstream. Read the books that speak to my soul and teach me things I need to learn. Find my voice and write. Take photographs that mean something. Embrace my realities. Enjoy motherhood with fullness. Love my wife with abandon. Take note of all the little moments that make up the whole. Know myself and all I need - ignore the naysayers and feel fully alive. Create daily - write, take photographs, draw. Pursue dreams, passions, and work hard. Print my work. Start a shop with my beautiful wife. Love my friends - invest in them. Continue the path to healing, health, and overall wellness. Embrace it all.
  • The happiest I've ever been - standing on this beach at sunset, dirty, wild, free.