Coffee and cheese and going home.
I post on this blog every Wednesday as a matter of course. Often this space serves as a way to share resources and new books and wise words from fellow authors; on occasion it works as a journal: a tether between life and writing, a place to sort through all that keeps me sane (though “sane” is relative, last night I was less-than-so as I slammed the blender into a batch of chocolate chip cookie dough, baking at a time when I could have been meditating). Today these words are more life than writing as I sit in the airport waiting to fly home to see family, to help a sister, to love a nephew. Today it is about the sunshine pouring in the window, about this moment of gratitude for good health, for family. About a strong cup of coffee on a strange table fashioned in the form of cheese–reminders that home is in two places and my heart is stitched into the binding of both.
