1. Morning walks. Just the past few days, even though we are still having high temperatures in the upper 90s and even over 100 degrees, there has been a subtle shift towards fall. We’ve been regularly seeing a lot of heron and the tiny family of deer, the mama with her three babies — at first we weren’t sure if all three were hers, but this morning we saw all three nursing from her. Ringo was also pretty proud of himself this week to find a deer bone. He pulled me off trail, refusing to budge when I tried to get him to turn back, insisting there was something out there he needed to see, which is pretty impressive because the bone was completely clean and he could still smell that it was something special.

2. Practice. Yoga at Red Sage, writing with my Wild-ish group on Friday morning, making some art, pulling a card from one of my tarot decks, sitting with what I’m feeling, writing in the morning with a hot cup of coffee and a warm mug of green tea and a dog on the floor behind me or under my desk at my feet.

3. Knowing when to quit, when to say no. This came up a few times this week. I have been very thoughtful recently when something arises and I want to quit or say no because I’m pretty vulnerable and want to be sure it’s a helpful response and not just me wanting to run away or give up.

4. Peach season. Everything tastes better in season, most vegetables and fruits if you can get them are so much better they almost count as completely different varieties when they are picked fresh, are actually ripe when harvested. Even so, there are a lot of things I’ve grown used to getting from the store even after the moment has passed locally. Peaches are one thing that is an exception, something I only enjoy when they are in season locally, so I am currently eating as many as I can, and this week, Eric made me another square pie using our “outdoor kitchen.” The pie is long gone but later I’m going to have peaches with my oatmeal.

5. My tiny family, small house, little life. I am still struggling with the memories of being with my mom as she was dying, can still feel myself in that room sitting next to her listening to her struggle to breathe, and that’s been hard. I haven’t been sleeping very well and I’m experiencing a lot of anxiety along with the grief. That said, I’m so glad to be home, to be here while that is happening, to have Eric and Ringo’s company no matter how I’m feeling.

Bonus joy: cheese, getting in the pool, sitting in the sauna, opening all the windows and turning on the whole house fan in the morning while it’s still cool outside, our “new” bed and in particular the wool topper, clean sheets, a warm shower, the way my shampoo and conditioner smell, my wool Haflinger slippers, clothes that are soft and loose, my purple down blanket with fleece on one side, down pillows and blankets, the way lotion and lip balm feels when your skin is dry, stretching, other people’s kids and dogs and gardens, flowers, birds, the way the squirrels that live in our neighbor’s tree are so unafraid of Ringo and will hang out in our yard even when he’s around even though sometimes he chases them for a bit of fun, leftovers, being able to cook outside when it’s too hot to turn the oven on inside, strawberries, cheese (yes, I already mentioned it but for some reason I’m sort of obsessed with it this week), salt, libraries, poetry, good movies and TV, listening to and watching podcasts (but I’m still confused — if you can watch it, doesn’t that make it a talk show?), good books, new music (did you know Will Ferrell’s son is a singer? and he’s pretty good too), earplugs, Ringo coming to tell me it’s time for his lunch (he’s standing behind me right now making the request), reading in bed at night while Ringo and Eric sleep.

1. Morning walks: It was the Wild Kingdom out there this week: red tailed hawks squawking, a pack of coyotes yipping, flocks of crows murdering, mama deer with multiple babies, beavers swimming, herons fishing and one taking a bath in the river, an owl hunting, and toads hopping across the trail. That doesn’t even count all the ducks, geese, and rabbits we see on the regular. It’s one of my favorite things about where we live: all the animals.

2. Practice. Nothing is “back to normal” and I’m not even sure what the new normal looks like, but practice is always there and I can always go back to it, start over, begin again: meditation, yoga — in particular at Red Sage, and writing — especially with my Friday morning group. Moving my body also feels like it should count, so along with morning walks there’s also getting back in the pool and going to Pilates.

3. Reading. Our book club pick was really good this time, (Wild Dark Shore), and am excited to talk about it this weekend with them. I just finished reading Kin by Tayari Jones and really liked it. I also already listened to most of the audio and read most of the ebook version of Heart Minded: How to Hold Yourself and Others in Love by Sarah Blondin, and now I’m working my way through the paper copy, underlining and highlighting and adding notes. It’s given me an idea for a gentle, restorative yoga class series I want to teach, as well as being so helpful to me personally. I’m also still loving working my way through every book Terry Tempest Williams ever wrote, and it’s making me want to go back and read A Sand County Almanac by Aldo Leopold which I first read as an undergraduate. 

4. Streaming content. Yes, most of my services are problematic, I know, but they continue to keep me afloat when so much else on the internet is crap. This week I watched Rooster on HBO and really enjoyed it. In terms of the rules and consequences around teaching at a university, it wasn’t very accurate, but it was still fun. I started watching Dish podcast after seeing some clips and really like it. I continue to work my way through Mike Birbiglia’s Working it Out and Amy Poehler’s Good Hang after having caught up with all four seasons of Do You Need a Ride with Chris Fairbanks and Karen Kilgariff. I also found a really good yoga mix on Spotify for class this week, except for that one song that had sounds that made us think there was a cat loose and crying somewhere in the clinic. As soon as I heard about Glen Hansard’s passing, I purchased access to Once, the gorgeous movie where I first heard him play and sing that has one of the best soundtracks ever, (the scenes of him on his motorcycle are hard to rewatch under the circumstances). 

5. My tiny family, small house, little life. I’m a bit more settled this week but still pretty out of sorts. It’s a heavy season in my life and I’m trying to come to terms with the hard truths of aging and death and the lack of control I have over any of it. I am making an effort to find peace of mind amidst the chaos and calamity that is life and probably will until mine is over. Ringo is continuing to follow me everywhere and if he isn’t right with me, he’s recently checked on me. Right now, he is on the floor next to me, and I don’t mind that at all.

Bonus joy: our “new” bed (not sure when it stops being new), peaches, any pie that Eric makes and I get to eat, onion poppy seed buns, the sound of hummingbirds, being a huge dork and telling that guy we see walking at Kestrel sometimes about the coyotes we heard and him saying, “that’s so cool!”, the mama crossing the road with three babies and how everyone stopped and waited for her and were smiling as they drove away after they’d safety gotten to the other side of the road, cool air in the morning, our whole house fan, a/c, being able to get the laundry done before it gets too hot out, pay day, ink refills for my favorite pens, texting with Chloe’ and Chris, sitting in the sauna after being in the pool, the hydromassage chair, Tracy’s small group training class, how good Ringo did at his appointment on Monday, grapefruit Bubly, how Venture let it slide that I forgot he doesn’t like me to pet him (he’s just so adorable it’s hard to remember sometimes) and the way he sighed after I read that poem during shavasana, that Megan was there for yoga after not being able to come for a long time, how comfortable they all are after practicing with me for so long — all the jokes and the complaining, talking with Wendy about life stuff before we started writing, the look Ringo gave me when Wendy’s cat showed up while we were writing and meowed really loud, how excited he was about the cat that was sitting on our front porch when we opened the door to leave for our walk this morning, how he sometimes so clearly understands what we are saying, other people’s gardens and pets and kids, leftovers, the flowers Eric got me, naps, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep.