Begin at the Beginning

I've been thinking a lot lately about time. The concept of it, the measure of it, its devices and seasons and elusive intentions. 

In some quantum theory and in Buddhist teachings we see a parallel: there is nothing but Now, as Past and Future are illusory and residual. The elasticity of time creates a dissonance that crescendos the longer we live.

How many times have you thought recently, "That seems like ages ago, and also like just yesterday," ? And still, notice how seldom we are confronted with a young child experiencing nostalgia? 

If you've seen Pixar's banger Inside Out 2 you know that Nostalgia shows up as an infrequent but adorable visitor in Riley's mind as she gets old enough to actually have something to look back on. So being that I'm about 24 years older than Riley is, you can imagine how fucking wild I'm feeling about the past and future (lowercase) these days. 

One thing that has been a constant in my life, the thing that has been there longer than anything else save my own soul, longer than Pearl Jam, and partnership, and even parents, is writing. 

So I'm going to start writing to you. Every week. I don't actually know what it's going to be, or what it will or even can become. I just know that writing makes me not even a better person but simply who I am--and sharing that with you feels like what I'm supposed to do next. 

Expect poems, recipes, musings, advice, playlists, what I'm reading, tips for showing up for yourself when it's really fucking hard, how to decorate your home for the holidays like my mom would have, and whatever else I eek out at a time. 

I was taught to begin at the beginning. But time is a cosmic joke, so I'm beginning here. Wherever this is. Thank you for being here with me.