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Ritual

January 18, 2012
Treehouse


This morning I woke up having no idea. No idea how to revise the book I wrote, no idea where I’m headed with my work, no idea where I am going or how to get there, no idea how to run a business. Sometimes the Unknown is too big, and I want to hide. Or get a real job. Or embrace what I have and not worry about not knowing.

I know I’m not supposed to know. None of us can know. Every day we step into the Unknown of our lives. But that doesn’t make it any easier when I compare (compare and despair!) myself to other people who seem to know what they are doing.

So I hang on to my ritual like a lifeline–Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings, from 6-9 is when I work. In theory. I usually untangle myself from between Oliver and Lucy, who still join us in the middle of the night in our bed, at about 6:20, go downstairs in the dark and pour myself a cup of coffee, (Paul grinds the beans and sets the coffee maker for me every night. To me this equals love.) and read a book on the red couch in the brown room while I wake up, a candle on the windowsill. From the couch, I see my neighbor Dave take his dog for a morning walk. He leaves for work by 7:00. When he pulls out of his driveway, I pack my bag and computer and head back to the Treehouse to write. Or plan a class. Or sketch. Or spin my wheels. Or check Facebook.

I tell myself that if I just show up, if I just hold on to this ritual, place one word after the other onto the page, I will arrive somewhere. I usually arrive at the doorstep of myself. Which is nice. Even if I leave the Treehouse every morning, still not knowing.

A glimpse into this morning in the Treehouse, not knowing:

Dharma, my moral support

When I don't know, I remind myself what matters.

I do know I will be working with youth at the amazing non-profit Youthlink.

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