Rainy Day

Working on a new color palette

Hey y’all,

I hope you’re well out there. Safe. With some ease.

We are shifting into warmer weather, although today is cold and rainy. The tulip and star magnolias bloomed with a punch a few weeks ago. Then it froze. The flowers have hung on the branches in sleepy stasis, yellowing from the shock. Green leaves, looking stunned, are just now poking through.

A is asleep in the stroller outside after a walk around the nearby farm. And so, a moment to write.

I’ve been futzing around with a new set of colors to use. These are more muted than my usual mix. I’m curious what you think. Not sure if they’re pointing to where I want to go.

The theme here is a kind of stumbling and searching. I think of night drives along the Pacific Coast, looking for a place to sleep. The mystery, and exhaustion, of parenthood. Seeking creativity and connection and, sometimes, at a loss about where to find these.

Spring and a warm sun bring possibilities of renewal. A chance to begin again. How do we find a fresh approach to our tired, old patterns of doing and thinking? How do we bravely jostle our routines?

The attempt to see our habitual patterns makes me think of Pema Chödrön’s writings. In Taking the Leap, she describes the practice of pausing before we act in our usual ways. Through cultivating curiosity, mindfulness, and compassion, we can soften the itch that we so want to scratch.

Most of the mornings when I drop A off at daycare, I go for a walk afterwards. Through the cemetery that divides our home from there. My mind is scattered all the livelong day, but it’s twenty minutes of relative calm. These small moments of attention and focus matter.

Here’s to a little compassion for you. Love y’all out there. <3