1. Morning walks. Eric has been able to go on most of ours with us while he’s on break. It’s been fun, but Ringo gets annoyed when we talk to each other too much as opposed to paying our full attention to him. Our Monday morning walk was VERY exciting for all of us because Ringo tracked a coyote in the same spot we’ve seen one a few other times and actually found it. It made him so happy. He wanted to go back every day since that and search some more, and from now on, forever, whenever we walk that same section of trail, he’ll be looking for it, even if we never see it again.

2. Snow. It was only one day and it didn’t amount to much, but at this point, I’ll take whatever we can get.

3. Practice. I finally got to do some yoga with my Red Sage humans after taking a few weeks off for the holidays. I missed them. We also had another amazing, magical writing group on Friday morning. I haven’t been meditating much recently, so I’d like to get back to that.

4. My Oregon Family. My mom had another stroke this past week. She’s doing okay, and has clearly declined. I’m leaving in a few days to go to Oregon for two weeks, mostly to clear out her house and get it ready to sell, but after this recent episode, I think it’s good that I’m going to see her too. She’s still getting such good care and company, seems to recognize everyone, loves to eat, hasn’t stopped smiling, and seemed happy to meet Hallie, her newest grandbaby.

5. My tiny family, small house, little life. Eric let me have an extra week with the Christmas tree but tonight is the last day, so I’m trying to enjoy it as much as I can. I’m already missing the two weeks I’ll be away from here and them, and ready to come back home to them. Hopefully this will be one of the last times I have to be away for this long.

Bonus joy: dinner with Chelsey and Jon (who are moving to New Mexico, *sob*), plans to see Chloe’, the flowers Eric got me, texting with Chris, sunshine, other people’s kids and dogs, comedy, making each other laugh, poetry, libraries, movies, watching TV, scratch paper, stickers, pens with refillable ink, towels warm out of the dryer, clean sheets, a warm shower, down pillows and blankets, getting in the pool, sitting in the sauna with Eric, Flax4Life chocolate muffins, a hot cup of coffee and a warm mug of tea, finishing the laundry, spending a whole afternoon writing, listening to music and podcasts, chicken pot pie stew/soup, onion buns, pickled onions, a big glass of cold clean water, crying, naps, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep.

1. Morning walks. The current full moon is another super moon, the last one until November. When we walked yesterday morning, it hung low in the sky, fat and golden. I tried but couldn’t get a picture that captured it the way my eyes saw it. I was either too close and the focus flattened the moon turning it shades of gray without the gold, or all I got was a fuzzy orb of yellow from further away that looked more like the sun than the super moon.

I am still contemplating how while a supermoon is defined as being closer, bigger and brighter, that’s not actually true. The moon is essentially the same, unchanged, and the only thing that shifts is our perspective. I think this is the case so much of the time, about lots of things not just the moon. We try so hard to hold some things as solid and fixed because of how we see them, the meaning we choose to make, but how we see and what we decided is never the full story, the whole truth.

And yet, still, somehow behind or beneath or beyond what we know there is something else, something more vast, what we might call ultimate truth or even God. It’s luminous even as it’s empty, so big it’s beyond what we can comprehend, it’s nothing we can know for certain or prove, not even anything we can touch. We live our lives with the tiny bits of it we collect, the fleeting moments and glimmers stuffed deep into our pockets, unable to contain even the smallest part let alone its full measure.

And in those moments I feel close to “it,” looking up at the sky blinded by the supermoon, or standing on the sand looking out at the vastness of the ocean, my feeling in those moments is just how tiny I am, how small and insignificant, and how that truth actually feels like a comfort.

2. Practice. There were only three of us for most of our writing session yesterday, with a visit towards the end of one more, and the poems and what we wrote in response were gorgeous, so much bigger than the sky.

3. Family. Hallie got to come home on Monday. Mom is doing well, comfortable, cared for, kept company. I was able to check in with our estate lawyer to be sure we had all the necessary paperwork and contact a realtor to help us get Mom’s house ready to list. I’m looking forward to AND anticipating some BIG feelings beginning the hard work of clearing out her house and getting to see my other, bigger family of humans, knowing it’s very likely Mom will still remember me. Lineage gives you a legacy that can include sadness and disappointment, but even that is something to stand on, lifts you up so you can reach beyond it.

4. Ringo. I started the new year on the couch cuddling with Ringo. He’s not big on physical contact that doesn’t involve barking and teeth, and I have to wait for him to come to me and ask for affection, to instigate it. I was on the couch enjoying one of the final days of our Christmas tree and its lights when Ringo came over, tucked in between my hip and the back of the couch, his chest resting on mine, his face in my face. We stayed like that, cuddling with me petting him and him kissing me from time to time for at least a full ten minutes, maybe more. It was the perfect way to start the new year, felt like a blessing of sorts. The light of the tree, the warmth that collected where we were connected, his face so close to mine, feeling his heart beat against my ribs.

5. My tiny family, small house, little life. Eric was talking to his dad the other day, and he asked Eric about what we’d do when he retired, if we’d move, and Eric said, “why would we move?” To be fair, I think Terry assumed we’d want to live full time in Oregon, on the coast, since we spend almost every vacation there. We have settled here and it suits us — the location, the weather, the proximity to trails, the access to healthcare, the community we’ve cultivated over the years. Of course, anything could happen, things change and life is nothing but impermanent, and eventually we may need to be taken care of somewhere else, but there’s no plan.

Bonus joy: book club, a warm shower, a chicken sandwich with pickled onions on an onion bun, Eric baking cookies, homemade fries using our new Air Fryer, getting in the pool, sitting in the sauna with Eric, texting with Chris, other people’s kids and dogs, watching good TV, listening to podcasts, grocery shopping, finishing the laundry, stickers, poetry and poets, comedy and comedians, music and musicians, Reddit, a hot cup of coffee and a warm mug of green tea, stories of kindness, pay day, new calendars, sunshine, clean sheets, my weighted blanket, my Shakti mat and the new Shakti “pillow” I got Eric for Christmas, naps, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep.