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.

1. Christmas. It was a weird one this year for me and mine. It was our first Christmas without Eric’s mom, without her Pecan Tassies, without a phone call to her and the noise of her house with all the grand and great grandkids there for dinner. It was the first Christmas that Mom spent at Tokarski House rather than at home, which meant my brother, his kids and grandkids, also didn’t have Christmas at Nana’s for the first time, which is another reminder that Papa is gone too, this being the second Christmas without him. We’ve also been having especially warm weather instead of snow.

We made the best of it. We finally turned on the Christmas music and took some pictures in front of our tree, once again this year decorated with mostly just lights, which I then texted out to loved ones with wishes for a merry always and happy everything. Then I had breakfast and some hot drinks (coffee and tea, I’m weird like that), did my morning reading and writing. Then we opened presents. Ringo helped for a bit after he opened his Christmas stocking, but he was super tired (it’s a hard adjustment for him when Eric is not working and they took a pretty long walk while I slept in that morning), so he napped while we finished.

We cleaned up our mess, tested out and put away some of our presents, leaving the rest under the tree for now. I was texting with people throughout the day, in particular my brother. They’d gone to visit Hallie in the NICU on Christmas eve, (she’s almost ready to come home), taken Mom/Nana her presents, and got Chinese takeout for dinner. On Christmas morning they opened presents at Papa’s/Chris’s/my brother’s house. Then later that evening, Chris went to Tokarski House to visit Mom, we sent each other selfies (she was wearing a pair of the new Christmas pjs I sent her) and they watched some Hallmark holiday movies. They’d made her a special dinner, of which she had seconds and said was delicious. I’m so grateful she’s there, with them.

Eric and I spent the rest of our day mostly dinking around and resting. As we made dinner, we got into a dumb argument about bent spoons. On top of all the other reasons this year’s holiday season felt weird, Eric is coming down from two years of pretty intense and constant work, and the adjustment to him being off work always takes a bit of time. I kept teasing him this week anytime we fussed at each other that he needed to go back to work, but by the end of the break when he really has to go back, I know I won’t want him to, like always.

2. Morning walks. We saw a shooting star this morning. Eric saw it first and was so excited. It stayed lit up so we could follow it for a long time, with Eric saying he’d never seen one like that, one that lasted so long and had sparks flying off it like fireworks. He said later that I didn’t seem as impressed as he was and I told him I was too caught up in appreciating his joy at seeing it. Ringo likes it when we both walk because he gets extra treats.

3. Reading. I’ve read 70 books so far this year. I knew I’d been reading more but didn’t realize it amounted to that. It makes sense considering I’m typically reading four or five at a time, and that I read for a few hours in the morning and then another few more at night. And this year we joined a book club, so that adds another ten or so. I love it so much.

4. My weighted blanket. Because we’ve had such warm weather this winter, I’d forgotten about it, as I can only really use it when it’s cold. I got it out this week and remembered how much I like it. I know it seems like it would be claustrophobic because I thought the same before I got it, but under the right conditions, it’s like a full body compression suit and there is a particular kind of muscle tension release and comfort that sensation gives me.

5. My tiny family, small house, little life. I’d rather be here than anywhere else, with them rather than anyone else.

Bonus joy: I just realized it’s Friday not Saturday (bonus day!), fudge with walnuts, down blankets and pillows and jackets, watching TV (currently finishing up Season 3 of Home for Christmas, there’s also a playlist someone made of the music from all three seasons that’s really good), watching Death in Paradise with Eric, listening to podcasts and audiobooks, ordering myself a new pair of slippers, Eric buying me something for Christmas that I really needed but probably wouldn’t have ever bought for myself, a new air fryer (I resisted getting one for a really long time and finally gave in and asked for one for Christmas and I’m excited to try it), a big glass of cold clean water, while we don’t have snow at least it’s not raining, Christmas cards that include family pictures, the purple flowers Eric got me, flowers in the bathroom and on my writing desk and on my meditation shrine, getting in the pool, sitting in the sauna with Eric, other people’s dogs and kids, giving dog advice to people on Reddit, planning another trip to the beach with Ringo, pickled red onions, twinkle lights, making each other laugh, naps, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep.