This spring was icky: long covid, the easy-but-complicated decision to leave the department, my 88-year-old mom’s fall and all the worry and tasks attendant on that, ten thousand miles of driving in three months, so many stressors. And then the summer workshops. For the month, I basically dropped everything to do with work or other tasks (to say nothing of dumping my cat with my brother’s family and ignoring my friends), and I am so glad I did. It gave me the space to recenter, reminding me of who I am away from the corrosion of KU and the department. I write. I help writers. I am happy. I have friends I love. Remembering all of this is a big hurrah.
And now I am home again from the latest visit to my mom (who is recovered), cat back, fridge full, friends coming back online. I have just started writing (well, rewriting) again, and it feels entirely possible to move forward into the fall productive and centered. I am often grateful in life — for years now, I have had a nearly daily practice of writing a short list of things I am grateful for to some friends — but today, this week, this moment, I feel exceptionally thankful. And it is still summer! Today is the first day in many months that I can look forward to being home for more than a few days until the Next Thing. That all means iced tea and books on the deck, fresh salads and homemade margaritas, interesting tasks and tranquil downtime. Am I lucky? Yes, yes I am.