October. 1. The flash fiction piece I submitted a few months ago was selected as a finalist in a contest—and it will be in print sometime in May. 2. Making preparations for the launch of my fall journal writing challenge. I may be over-complicating things or just luxifying. 3. Meditating for several days in a row, just to see what shifts, on Tara Brach's concept If there's nothing wrong with me, who am I then? If I am equipped and loveable, who is that version of me?
non-negotiable morning routine for proper installation of the self
Wake up before my alarm at still dark o'clock worried about some things and excited about some other things
Read a spiritual text aloud
Gratitude list or affirmations
Put the kettle on for tea (milk oolong)
Write in my journal
Iterate my to-do list
Water the garden
Sometimes I forget the order in which Le Sacred Morning Routine flows most smoothly. I'm always tempted to test things like whether washing my face before I brew tea flows better than stretching right away or before watering the garden. I am rarely the same person I was yesterday, so the test is inherently flawed.
Gently courting reading—a delicate issue since the pandemic
October. Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia; Hell Hath No Fury: Women's Letter from the End of the Affair edited by Anna Holmes; The Hobbit by JRR Tolkein; Intimations by Zadie Smith.
September. The Jane Austen Book Club by Karen Joy Fowler.
July. So You Want to Talk about Race by Ijeoma Oluo; James Baldwin's letter/essay, The Fire Next Time.
April. Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay while ignoring that I am super late to the party on this one (the book, not feminism). This collection of essays pairs well with watching every lecture or talk of Ms. Gay's that I can find on YouTube. I'm feeling switched on, smarter and smarter, and like I'm on the verge of something. It's like accidentally getting a caffeinated latte instead of the decaf.