Something about checking in

I have had the phrase SOMETHING ABOUT in my head a bit lately.

As in: I don’t know what, exactly, but something about…

Something about a something!

Something about how I am finding myself in and out of moments of utter fog and startling clarity.

In other words, [Something About] is what I’ve got at the moment, a clue, a direction, a pointer, maybe.

And who can even know anymore which things are hard and which are good, how can we categorize anything when it’s all so confusing at the moment, so I am trying a slightly different format to check-in/chicken, and naming all things on my mind at the moment. Like an inventory. Of somethings.

Something about a (something about) and something about a check-in that is also a chicken.

For starters

Something about returning to ritual, specifically.

Something about freshness. Something about sorrow.

Something about beginning again, and the mysteries of re-emergence when there is no going back, and no “back” to go to, even if we wanted to.

Something about forgetting and remembering.

I made a mint simple syrup for the first time in twenty years and added it to a startlingly tart and bright lemonade that I made from the lemons from a tree in a garden in Arizona, on the property of the parents of a friend of mine from Oregon.

Something about paths and how they cross, something about sense memory, all the way back to my forgotten orchards that are never forgotten and always so close and too far at the same time, long gone, gone now.

What did I forget last night

I have to laugh about this because the main something about something that I wanted to tell you about has slipped my mind.

It is so odd to have been cursed by the gods with flawless recall of any conversation I’ve ever had, but to also have ADHD and not know where my keys are or what I was so clear on last night.

Something about it was until it wasn’t, and now something new.

Something about the relationship between mourning and demolishing

Something about grief, again.

Something and really Everything about DEFUND & ABOLISH, and more than that, and sooner, and how do we get justice when the system of justice is inherently unjust, and the casualness of the wrong-doing, the [overwhleming vastness] that is too much, to see and re-see how our culture continually harms black and brown kids in terrible ways, and the cumulative damage to the psyche from watching it happen over and over again, how is this still happening (I mean, I get that the system is designed for this to happen, but it’s still infuriating), this past week of murder after murder was so awful and so telling, and the “justice” so small.

This week was so much.

Something about impatience

I have lost my temper many times this week, and was abrupt and unkind.

Something about authority (experiencing helpless fury dealing with institutions and their uselessness, endless phone calls to resolve a mystery bill, and it is still unresolved but I am out of the ability to stay with this and stay embodied at the same time).

Something about sudden uncontrolled rage (mine), and how it still surprises me.

Example, I got so mad at a Keurig coffee maker, I don’t know why, it was just taking up so much space while doing so little and being unattractive to me and drawing the eye exactly where I don’t want it, so really this is more something about aesthetic sensitivity, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing at all.

Something about maybe I am getting mad at the small things because I can’t handle how mad I am at the big things.

Something about rage and spite as fuel, and how relatable this is to me.

Mysteries of X and not-X (what am I solving for)

Something about the mysteries of sleep, and of course how the longer they remain unresolved, the more moody outbursts I am likely to have.

Something about the mysteries of place.

Something about unknowns and waiting.

Something about a line in a song suddenly striking differently. “Once I could swallow the full (entire) moon…”

Something about poetry.

Actually, quite a lot about poetry. Most of my somethings, maybe. I don’t know.

Something about wishing wishes in the shower, and how this is the only place I like to wish wishes.

Something about how most of my moods can be fixed by adjusting the temperature or what I am wearing.

Something about the power of aesthetic pleasures.

Something about zen and something about emoji

After much much effort on the part of Richard, we did figure out how to make emoji work here (aha, something about ❤️ ☀️🌵⚔️ !!!!), so that is a delight.

However making this happen involved losing the last two blog posts and related comments (something about loss).

So I don’t know, if having those is important to people I could try to possibly repost them, maybe salvage some of the comments, or we could also let it be like a zen garden made of sand, and know or remember in our hearts how the sand made beautiful patterns that were then lost to the wind because they were of the moment.

(Something about taking a breath for the beautiful that is beautiful because it is ephemeral).

Something about second-guessing myself.

And then getting bored by that pattern, and then doing it again.

What is yes? What is known about yes?

If nothing is known about yes, surely something is known about no?

Something about wanting to be seen and known by a someone

Something about how someone who I thought knew me very well saying they don’t think of me as a hedonist, when obviously I am a Known Hedonist (but not to this person, so do they need to know me better or do I need to recommit to my Devotion to Pleasure, probably both…)

Something about my friends and how they, unlike former lovers, can always be counted on to text the best and most correct things (“wow how could anyone read you so wrong, you are a top 10 hedonist, you are the blueprint of hedonism, you prioritize lusciousness and sensual delight in a way that is INSPIRING!!!”)

Something about blooming

Thinking about walking somewhere with my cousin Itai, this is many years ago, and he said something about how I am blooming now, like in the sense of coming into my myself, flourishing.

This week I drove through saguaro national forest, as I do, and the saguaro are blooming, I got to see it happen, because I drove every day, so one day they had not bloomed, and the next day my tall beautiful friends had sprouted hats and crowns, soon with white flowers that will open, glorious.

The ocotillo are blooming too, speaking of plant friends who teach about boundaries and boundaries and boundaries, with love and patience.

Something about what have I learned since last they bloomed? A lot. Not enough. Something about that question more than the answer.

Something about what have I learned (or maybe what haven’t I learned) during pandemic life.

Something about assumptions.

Okay, maybe a lot of things about assumptions.

Hmmmmmm feelings

Something about getting a text that says “Still adore you” from the person who disappeared for nearly a month after saying they would never disappear again.

Something about feelings and something about being addicted to chaos.

Something about needing more reminders and never enough, tell me again.

Here + now

Something about finally landing.

Something about full powers.

Something about lusciously embodied.

Something about the solutions that show up when you need them, and how they are not the ones I tried to force or jerry-rig.

Something about the bliss that resides and hides in repetition, sort of a runner’s high, but without the running part.


Something about the best Bulgarian sheep feta drizzled in olive oil, something about the small joys.

Something about a poem a friend sent me, something about translations and renaming.

Something about the just right pillow and how it changes everything.

Something about the small pleasures can lead (sometimes) to bigger ones.

Something about anticipation, my very favorite drug, and finding new sources.

The freedom in the grief

Something about knowing there is nowhere I need to be, no one I need to take care of, nothing that needs me, and this can be very deeply depressing, or it can be beautifully liberating, and right now I am finding some joy in something that has been painful.

Come play with me in the comments!

Something about how much I love you all and appreciate your company and companionship in these experiments, these adventures into reflection.

You can regular chicken (name some hard/good in your week), or name some somethings about somethings, or whatever you feel drawn to do with lovingly reflecting on the week.


Reminder that you can always use a made-up name in the comments whether in service of safety or playfulness.

We are all going through what we are going through. So we make this a sanctuary by not care-taking or problem—solving for other people, we can leave each other warmth or hearts of love or pebbles of witnessing.

How are we holding up? Haha maybe that’s the wrong question. What kind of somethings are we having a something-about about?


The Fluent Self