I have to pack, something I loathe. Whenever I get to where I'm going, my packing seems so inferior compared to others. On retreat, I want to wear stained sweats and floppy shirts. I think in Northern Cal this type of dress is illegal. We're not supposed to compare but I can't help it. Especially when the persons sitting all around me in the beautiful dharma hall look so put together and calm. I'm a seething mass. I bet there are snakes and beetles and popinjays swirling around my cushion. (I always wanted to use 'popinjays' in a sentence).
Six days of silence and a lot of vegetables. Live oaks on the hills. I'll visit them every day. They are womanly trees. They are massive and ruggy and they lay their huge limbs on the ground. I always miss them.
I start teaching in January. I approach teaching with caution. It's a lot of effort and students tend to text, email and behave distractedly. We didn't have multiple devices when I was in school. We had pens and notebooks. I got there on horseback. Or I walked 10 miles in the snow. And I was grateful.
That last bit was all lies.