I got on Instagram and am seeing all these parents do back to school posts — some are pretty standard/simple, others are people’s kids in clean, new looking clothes posed winningly outside of their schools, and the family’s also prepared cute breakfast and little back to school treats and balloons. Even the parents are in fancy-casual lifestyle clothing (they must’ve prepped for this?) I honestly love looking at stuff like this for the glimpse into another world. I like seeing what other people are doing and imagining (not necessarily wanting) my life to be like that too. I’ve been feeling a little 

behind time —

We’re doing two different homeschool groups this year instead of one. I’ve been worried it’s going to be too much (three days a week — we usually move slower) but in grounded moments suspect it’ll be great. Neither my 6 or 8 year old can fully read and this is something that could bring me shame but I’m getting better at not letting it. In Finland kids aren’t taught writing and reading til 7, and one could come back with all sorts of reasons why I’m/the kids are still failing but as my friend Hannah likes to point out, they’re happy, healthy, have great friends and community, make tons of projects and inventions and are up to countless interesting things. They’ll master reading when it’s right for them — I’ll also admit that teaching them has been somewhat activating for me (as the story goes I taught myself to read when I was 4, but I also remember feeling like I was “bad” in first grade for not memorizing my big book of Victory Drill words as fast as other kids.) I like reminding myself that we’re whole, complicated beings and that this parent/child journey of reading and many other things is of course going to touch on different nerves — we simply are where we are. I’m sure sooner than later the kids will be rolling through books on their own, and then there’ll be some other milestone to compare ourselves to others over. So this funny world goes.

I’m working on another production and keep saying I’m going to take a break but in the last few days have been thinking a lot about a show I want to do maybe late next year. I already feel a little pressure to figure it out (at least the when? Or the theater, and make sure I can cast it and such) but also these panicky tendencies are good to gently notice and I don’t need to beat myself up over them. This show’s been filled with beautiful people and a welcomed re-entry to the world of dance — also tiring. I’ve been thinking about the older gentleman I very recently started dating. He’s in California for a few weeks; I miss him, or maybe the connection we were building, and wonder what (if) he’s thinking of me. Also recently started talking again with the fellow in Bozeman who, like me, isn’t sure he has the capacity to engage in my life (for him, it’s my non-monogamy; for me, the need to decompress and probably not bring anyone new into the fold) but he likes good books and maybe we’ll be friends … there is also my blossoming connection with a new friend in the show. Also, the young man over the hill who continues to hold an odd, sweet part of my heart — he knows it, and while I know he feels similarly we have different needs, yet I still ask after his dog and he still writes me from the library saying it reminds him of me …

My relationship with Nolan has been feeling really good lately. I’ve been feeling his love a lot, and appreciate that, and am trying to make sure he knows mine too. We’re waging an unfortunate war with the mice in our house right now and it’s provided unexpected bonding as a family — the funny/but-not shared discomfort we all feel spending time pretty much anywhere downstairs due to the mice truly just strolling around. We killed one last night and Nolan and I felt more guilty than we expected. I’m hoping for more quality solo time, or a date with him soon, but will take the little bits we’re getting. It’s been a sweet, social summer where at least once a week I’m running into someone who encountered him out dancing or with friends and they passionately tell me how amazing he is (I say I know and am glad they found out.) He and I have been laughing a lot together lately; I’ve been saying for years I love the way he commits to humor and I stand by it. There’s really no one like him. 

I keep saying I’m going to restart work on this script soon and haven’t, but finally know where I’m going and have the rest of my board set up — most importantly when I reread the half that’s done, I feel some good inner magic and a quiet conviction that this might-just-might be something. Wonder if I’ll stumble into shooting next summer like I want? (Miracles do happen) I wonder when we’ll have the land and house we dream of — stubbornly, beautifully, I continue to believe and even know that it’s coming, and I love the way that that feels, hence my continuing to do it.

Had a sensitive moment last night at rehearsal during a communication with someone but am honestly just choosing to appreciate the parts of myself that get upset over communication that doesn’t feel all the way respectful or good. These parts give a lot of insight and inspire continued thoughts about the kind of director I want to be/am, and how to lead with decency and humility while still getting close to the (often fairly specific!) set of creative outcomes I’m looking for. I had a conversation with someone the other night about gratitude where they were tentatively feeling out if my oft-mentioned gratitude is of the toxic nature (views that everything must be good, all the time.) It was reassuring to offer, and to know that I was speaking my truth, that it’s because I enjoy playing with expansiveness and how many truths I can hold — something might feel really hard, and yet simultaneously in my gut, a wild wave of gratitude will swim up and give a little “hi.” I like being able to feel it all. I love how I have never felt this thankful to be alive and for so many of my silly, legitimate struggles.

I’ve been feeling like I missed out on summer but just got out for a nature walk on my own and that’s not nothing. Been telling friends for weeks (months) how burnt out I am and that I really need time to replenish. As a newly 39 year old, I’m realizing that restorative practices can and maybe ought to look like very little. It was only after getting back-to-back sicknesses in the spring that I realized resting when you’re sick might actually mean just lying there — not reading, not trying to work on a project from bed, not (if you’re lucky) parenting. Simple but shocked me. Someone asked awhile back what slowing down looks like for me and unexpectedly what came out was spending more intentional time with the kids. I liked that. 

We’re thinking about taking over the lease for our friend’s apartment across town in October, which is exciting but overwhelming — since last summer we’ve rented a large 120 year old house (shared with our friends, the mice family) and we’d need to downsize much of our stuff. Both Nolan and I are excited by the challenge and think it could be a great way to save money —  I also love where we live, and its location, and am always nostalgic for what we currently have and did I say I’m tired … 

I started William Faulkner’s Light In August earlier this month but just put it down, halfway unfinished. I’d bought it in July and thought August would be good for digging in — and it was compelling at first, but in it a biracial Black man commits a crime, only for us to then go deep with his hatred for his race (paired with an undercurrent of violence against women and most women in the story being seen as matronly and overbearing) and it just started not feeling so good. I talked with someone who reminded that Faulkner often had a point with his racism, which I don’t doubt. I was also just speaking about how I don’t think all work has to be “unproblematic” in order to be valuable or good — yet sometimes my body or nervous system doesn’t want to keep going with a story that’s feeling a little activating, and maybe that’s alright too. Multiple truths at once.

The light this month has been good. Smoky but not unbearable — earlier nights — several solid sunsets — lots of lightning and rainbows.

Here’s to appreciation for it all, and whatever else may be coming.