I shared a love story the other day about red lights. And about loving them. Red lights as a form of pause and pleasure. As a door into presence. Presence that comes from deliberate, intentional stopping, and an adoring commitment to sweet slowness. Slow and more slowness. Watching a cup of water fill, slowly, over [...]

Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very. Each week I write these Visions of Possibility and Anticipation to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted. I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you [...]

Personal ads. They’re … personal! Very. Each week I write these Visions of Possibility and Anticipation to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted. I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you [...]

Five cafes that count among my regular haunts. Three are named for animals. Well, two are named for animals and one ought to be. And one is the kind of place where I just can show up and say: FEED ME. They know what I like. But mostly they know that I like being surprised. [...]

Stompopolis comes with very fun (optional, of course) entry-and-exit ritual which involves sitting inside of a compass inside of a blanket fort named George!

But really, anything can be an entry or exit ritual. Anything can be turned into an entry or exit ritual. Anything conscious, playful, curious and awake can be a ritual.

Today I am secretly turning the rain into different colors, and this is a proxy for what I am actually going to be doing. I want to do some writing about a (potentially) painful (to me) thing. But I also don’t want. So instead I will be secretly turning the rain into different colors. Beginnings. And [...]

Hey sweetie. Guess what, my love? You read this thing and now you can be done. You do not have to read the responses or the next thing or the rest of the things. The internet will always be there. And you will feel better if you stop now.

A reminder in secret agent code. Herbert Hoover = hidden permission slip to just stop.

And I want a Herbert Hoover button at the end of every New Yorker article so that I remember that I don’t actually have to read the whole thing.

Somehow, astonishingly, it is the time to passage between months again. I’m not sure how that happened.

I am taking a deep breath and invoking all the superpowers of easy transitions.

Okay! Exit and entry. Passaging out and passaging in.

Let’s see where we’re at.

Worst case scenario? I’ll have more information about what I don’t want.

I have been avoiding this. Surprise!

Mostly because September means the chagim: all the complicated Jewish holidays and the New Year. The cheshbon nefesh (literally: soul accounting) that goes along with that.

And I haven’t wanted to turn inward. I haven’t wanted to reflect.

I know, I know. I like reflecting. But this past year has been full of so much hard for me.

And then this morning I thought of something incredibly reassuring.

God. Our lungs, our amazing, amazing lungs.

Breathing all the way down into the secret corners, all the way up into the secret nooks and hidden openings.

I love this.

Especially the moment of imagining.

Thinking about this makes me feel like a butterfly.