This is Different Than I Ever Expected

writing from the California stratosphere

I’ve never written a newsletter on a plane, thousands of miles from sea level, as I am now. I’ve never written anything on a plane. But it is a Tuesday and I made a commitment to myself and all of you and it is my favorite commitment. Barely a commitment at all, really. Just some sort of deep enjoyment. 

The worm moon happened last week. My room in Lemon Palace is positioned perfectly so that the moon can creep into my room like ants searching for sugar. Silent heels, long tongue. The moon comes just like that.

I laughed so hard last week Wednesday. Anna, Addie, and I drove down to Ashland and we were fed corned beef which I wouldn’t recommend to someone with trypophobia because corned beef has finger-sized holes all over it.

I cried so hard just the day before. 

Last week was mixed with really great things and not so great things. I saw people I love and I saw people I… I worked myself down from a panic attack by counting heartbeats and I let all of the things I thought of go right through me. I ran around the coast and nervously glanced to the horizon waiting for tsunamis to wash me away. I counted starfish. I counted heartbeats. I counted realizations. Don’t be afraid of the love you have to give. I felt a static of pain ripple through my body like I’ve never felt before. That was new. I wept. I collected myself. I missed my mother. I called her on her 51st birthday. I gave my partner a big kiss and told them it would be okay as they took off again. 

What am I doing with my life?!

That’s been a big thought in my head recently. I’m still riding the really grateful train. It’s a nice train because even with some painful things I’ve had to work through recently, I still feel lucky. 

A year ago I was living alone on a mountain and there were many ants and bones and fires. I made a decision to stay near. To choose a place. “I left my friends for the mountains,” I wrote in a poem last fall. A year later, I’ve found friends in the mountains. I made a friend with a child who says she’s not a child but a lion; I found a friend who I’ve known for years but never actually known; I found a bookstore and a river and a place to walk; I found a good tree and good love; I found people to live with them and I like them a whole bunch. 

I never expected any of this. 

The scary and wonderful thing is I can’t say what is next and, whatever it happens to be, I will never expect any of it. 

My commitment to you is that there will be no newsletter next week. I will be in the middle of nowhere, but please imagine me—still writing. 

From the plane, with so much love, hoping I land, hoping you all feel some kind of goodness today (and all days)

Jo