April 2018: Gratitude

April was full of heady romance, frustrations that made me grow (spoiler alert: I did not get into grad school), watching my sugar maple blossom into leaves, and finally travelling back to Michigan for the first time since I left. In many ways, this month was about long overdue endings. I also saw the Northwest Pacific Ocean for the first time. Here are some other little gratitudes:

April Fools engagement, rings at Magpie.
Picking out birthday gifts for Mugs.
Luminary – a little ripped paper reminder.

Starting a new month in my journal.
My first castor oil wrap.
Funfetti cake.

Olive green blazer, lavender ring.
Late night phone calls with Sarah.
Olivia alive.

A perfect soviet-era mechanical watch from the Ukraine.
Curled up under the soft blanket, watching The Office.
Little spotted glass from William Temple, drinking water.

Nighttime journal reading on the couch.
Hot bath after work, therapy, rainy day.
Velvet sofa, always, such a comfort.

Rainy morning, preparing breakfast for everyone.
Winding my watch, hearing it tick.
Nighttime bath with Epsom salt + coconut oil.

Six hour afternoon nap.
Mugs’ heavy head on my ankles.
Tiny flank steak fried up just for me.

Me tree, leaves starting to sprout! Heavy with rain.
Curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine.
Spending time reflecting on “Raketa.”

Mugs’ warm body beside mine in the bed.
Books about trees.
Collaging on the cork board.

Gathering with friends, belonging at a house party.
Giving money to a good political candidate.
Not sleeping alone.

Mary Oliver’s Upstream.
Mugs & Alex laying in the bathroom while I took a bath.
Austen insistently wriggling into my lap.

Facewash & lotion from LUSH – a daily treat.
Seeing my first designed lawn sign in someone’s yard.
Smoked brisket with Annie.

Lavender chai at therapy.
Thinking – just thinking – about grief.
A good cry over grad school.

The ocean – glorious, powerful, dark.
Mist coming off a waterfall. Wet socks.
Touching the moss inside a cave, eyes closed.

Murphy oil mopped floors, window open.
At ottoman, feet up while working.
Creaking office chair, familiar brown leather.

Soft gray shirt, perfume on wrists.
Finishing Upstream.
Cold, bare feet at desk.

Carrying a package to the post office.
Taking the MAX over the bridge.
Clean white wall in entry way, a constant delight.

Crying at Chipotle. Vulnerability everywhere.
Communicating without saying a word, that connection.
Glittering sidewalk late at night, walking home alone.

Waking up to the sun hot on my face.
Mugs’ warm body on my legs.
Little brown leaf, still there, so strong.

Sun shining through my tree, its leaves huge.
A chance to talk fondly about Denver.
Empanadas, lomo saltado, friends, wine.

A simple lunch, iced tea, a good book.
Cherry blossom petals everywhere.
Small press publisher at the Night Market, tiny book on the Cold War.

Spinach + carrot + strawberry + chia smoothie.
Dogs playing at the dog park.
A quiet evening reading The Wise Heart.

Driving to Beaverton, the act of driving.
A fresh baby chick.
Piling on the couch after a long day.

Quiet morning light, writing at desk.
Tree all bloomed, blocking view, making tree house.
Turf fresh out of the printer.

Sugar dusted lemon poppy seed muffin.
Seeing you and her – a mirage, a sign.
Reading sparklets out loud at therapy.

A soft sweater and Sour Patch Kids for my flight.
Buddhism book and beer, multitudes.
Feeling rooted, prepared, wonderful.

A whole emergency exit row to myself.
Russian teenagers my only plane companions.
Essential oil dabbed behind ears.

Being around my belongings again.
Two hours to sing in the car.
Talking on the couch until 2AM with Sarah.

Little matte, lavender nails.
Nesting with Giselle, watching Leap!
Pulling up next to Sarah at the stoplight.

Pockets filled with crystals, healing energy.
Tiny rock from my old driveway, equally special.
Tiny Buddha holding an amethyst.
Writing at Sparrows, Sparrows chai, sunlight.
Fancy brunch with Giselle and Olivia.


Drop me a line

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s