There is such a comical and terrible gulf between ‘I absolutely love my brain and I cannot believe this is my job’ to ‘this book was a terrible idea and I should quit while I’m ahead,’ and today I am giving thanks to everyone who has offered their time, advice, a respite from citynoise to write/read/swim, their time giving such juicy and thoughtful answers to my survey about dissociation (lmk if you want to take it!), a space at their table, wisdom, patience and kindness. Closer to the end than the beginning (!!!) but still a ways (a LONG ways) to go. The text on slide 2 reads: “I do not write every day, I read every day, think every day, work in the garden every day, and recognize in nature the same slow complicity. The same inevitability. The moment will arrive, always it does, it can be predicted but it cannot be demanded. I do not think of this as inspiration. I think of it as readiness.” — Jeanette Winterson in “Art Objects,” loaned to me by Wesley who always has the uncanny ability to know exactly what I need at the precise moment that I need it. The other image descriptions: A person in a blue bandana marveling at the glittery expanse at the top of an upstate waterfall; feet playing with the light on a sunny bed; a fresh half-eaten peach dripping juice next to the book ‘Breathless’ by Kitty Tsui; a semi-nude selfie with the woods in the background; early morning swim in the Catskills; lounging in a friend’s newly opened pool with a seltzer; a laptop and book open before a dazzling expanse of woods, ready, waiting; me editing chapters in the sun in a place that reminds me I am never alone in this world; a coconut oil stained poem from Marcus Scott Williams that reads “iam here, somewhere in the sun.”