Month: March 2019

31 Day Social Media Fast: Day 18

In which I skip out on Instagram and Facebook for the month of March but still allow myself the internet.

Utterly and inexplicably delicious.

This glorious piece of gluten-free toast slathered with molasses and margarine is just one of the beautiful parts about Catapult Coffee & Studio this morning. I find out later that the shop is opened by a Jesus-based ministry, not my favorite, but then there is this: they are living what they preach, which is good, I suppose. I try not to let that bother me – they were so gracious, the coffee was so good, and molasses on toast is probably my new go-to breakfast.

Perhaps that’s just how they lure you in.

Anyway. We loved every part of the shop. The coffee, our toasty goodness, the people, the beautiful handmade tables and other crafts on offer. WWJD? Probably stay and drink his coffee and STFU.

As we were sipping hot coffee in the lovely shop, this man walked in.

Agent de la paix.

The fact that he is a “peace officer” was even more poignant when I stupidly checked my email and saw the front-page article in The New York Times Magazine from Sunday that outlined exactly how (and why) Baltimore City is (possibly irredeemably) so violent and corrupt. Imagine if in Baltimore the police considered themselves keepers of the peace, wore the words like a badge on their chest – how would things be different?

It is a hard thing to reconcile, this magical affair I am having with Saint John and my feelings for Baltimore, the city I call home and the city that increasingly breaks my heart. It’s so easy to stay ignorant of the issues Baltimore faces – I could stay in the white L and ignore the black butterfly. So many people do, and the city makes it so easy for white folks to remain ignorant.

It’s nice to get away (and that’s what the Saint Johnners say – we are from “away”), but as always, wherever you go, there you are.

31 Day Social Media Fast: Day 16 & 17

In which I skip out on Instagram and Facebook for the month of March but still allow myself the internet.

Winter’s as-yet-unrelenting grip. March 2019, Bay of Fundy.

We arrive to our property in Mispec, New Brunswick after a 13-hour overnight drive from Baltimore just as the tide is rolling all the way out to the Bay of Fundy. There are rocks exposed, hairy-looking creatures that hulk at the water’s edge, rocks that we’ve never seen before and will be covered again in less than 30 minutes when the tide turns and the water rushes back in.

The road is ice-covered and uncertain, and the Subaru stays behind as Khristian and I trudge to the top of the hill where our property begins. As we walk, we see these:

Any ideas of what this print might be?

I didn’t think there were bears in New Brunswick, but I see in the recent reportage of bear attacks in New Brunswick a link that another person survived a black bear attack by grabbing the bear’s tongue. We see plenty of deer prints and some poops of uncertain origin, but no sign of our resident porcupine, Street Stephen. The only other possible evidence of animal presence is the family of crows that sing their welcome (or warning) above us the entire time we are on the property, and snow prints of various animals that lace across our path as we walk.

It is absolutely glorious here. We will spend the week in Saint John, the largest city in the province, information gathering about wells and art and tree diseases. The property is nothing like it was in the heat of August, the last time we were here, and I am glad to have seen it in the winter, even as winter crosses the liminal space into spring-not-yet-spring and we cannot spend as much time as we’d like on the bluff overlooking the Bay of Fundy due to cold.

When we left, the tide was just beginning to come roaring back, but numb toes and fatigue were setting in, and the siren call of a warm AirBnB and a glass of bourbon made the decision for us.

It is the next day, St. Patrick’s Day, as I write in the cold sun-splashed morning, so slainté, revelers. Today we will ourselves walk the streets of the city and revel in each other’s presence, take ourselves out to lunch or dinner and listen to the water. Easy.

31 Day Social Media Fast: Day 15

In which I skip out on Instagram and Facebook for the month of March but still allow myself the internet.

March 14, 2019 – a watery day.

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and Creation) there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: The moment that one definitely commits one’s self, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred.

Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.”
~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe~

100% this. A theme for the year ahead, perhaps.

31 Day Social Media Fast: Day 14

In which I skip out on Instagram and Facebook for the month of March but still allow myself the internet.

The lovely, boggy swamp near the tiny house’s old parking spot.

It’s my birthday today.

I am one of the wateriest of the Pisces fishes, my birthday coming as it does in the last week of the last sign of the zodiac. I am all of the intensely good things about the Fish and all of the intensely not-so-good things (it’s true).

I love my sign. It’s potentially one of the more annoying things about me, so I try to keep it under wraps to prevent that – except on my birthday. I share the day with Albert Einstein and imagine we have tons in common, and it’s also pi day, which is nerdy and delightful all at once.

Side note: The Child’s birthday is May the Fourth, arguably the second nerdiest birthday of the year. Possibly the first nerdiest.

Yesterday at acupuncture I found out that my heart is excessively warm – the source of anxiety and insomnia and all of the other wicked things that have been swirling around me lately. My lovely yoga teacher and acupuncturist, Martha Rogers, advised oat straw tea and more water both inside and out, which makes sense.

She also said that coffee exacerbated the heat, which is just too bad because my coffee consumption is minimal and a joyous thing and a public service. I am doing it for you people.

I can think of maybe worse things than to be warm-hearted. But as I officially enter my late 40s, I find myself drawn to soothing, deep practices and flowing water.

So today I will take advantage of the sunshine and go for a walk near water, then to a bookstore, and certainly home for a nap at some point. There will be no dogs in my day, thankfully, and dinner at Alma Cocina Latina tonight with my sweetest love.

I want to take this small moment to offer gratitude to the universe and to all of my people inside of it. I am grateful every day for the wonder and kindness of the people I love and who love me back. Without you, the world would be a small and lonely place indeed. <3

31 Day Social Media Fast: Day 13

In which I skip out on Instagram and Facebook for the month of March but still allow myself the internet.

Today’s “bad news-good news” cycles goes thusly:

Bad news: I got a rejection email from The Sun.

Good news: It’s not taking them as long as it used to.

I choose to see this as good news (the rapidity with which they politely blow me off). I am not sure why, but it works for me. And maybe someday I will be published in that beautiful publication. Truthfully, it’s the act of submitting that holds more power for me these days (although, if I am honest – which I always try to be – publication would be lovely. Let’s not kid ourselves any).

So the rejections pile up, and still I am working to unearth and uncover and disclose. It is harder than you might imagine, this actual being honest with yourself. We are all stars in our own movie, and as such it is easy to cast ourselves in a favorable light.

But it’s the shadow I am now (and always have been) interested in. It shifts, though, and is hard to catch (I think there is a cartoon about that, catchiong your shadow, but it escapes me).

Anyway. Today is the last day of 47. Tomorrow I am officially in my late forties. Two years from Fiji (is how I am choosing to look at that factoid). Twenty-two years from taking up smoking again, and 32 years from smoking heroin in a shack on an island.

It’s good to plan ahead.