So many thoughts attempting to swim through the rough waters of my brain, eager to carve their path toward a more gently flowing stream of consciousness.  The Garage Project is in full swing which has brought up all sorts of stuff (both literal and figurative) as I make may way through the many years of things I have collected.

I am extremely rich by way of crystals and empty notebooks – I find a handful of each in nearly every box I open – a further testament to my lifelong inner witch.  This of course is only reinforced by my impressive collection of hair locks and baby teeth.  I promise it’s not as morbid as it sounds but, yeah, on paper I admit it reads as more than a little bizarre.  But honestly, why else do they make those cute little ceramic boxes painted with words like “First Tooth”?  It’s practically a formal invitation to keep them forever, and I have merely done as I was told.

Remarkably, I’m only prone to slight distraction.  I think I am so focused on the end result that I’m not too caught up in lingering sentimentality, which is helping me make progress much more quickly than I had anticipated.  Consequently, the rapid progress motivates me to keep on forging ahead.  I am on a mission and there is no turning back.  

Now, if only I could muster this same sort of enthusiasm for sticking with the Whole30, then I’d really be set!  Alas, this quarantine has continued to bring out the absolute worst of my bad habits when it comes to food, which is how I know that despite my continued productivity and my mostly positive attitude, I am still living with deep seeded anxiety about the state of the world.

Last night, B and I took the littlest one out way past his bedtime to go see the bioluminescence that is graces the Southern California coastline at this time each year.  (I’m choosing not to lament too much the fact that the big kids weren’t interested in coming with us on this excursion and instead stayed behind to do “homework” which, for my kids, really means Emet is making music and Jade is either reading, drawing, or bathing.  Sigh.)  So, just , the three of us piled into the car and headed toward La Jolla with no real plan other than to try and see some of the glowing tide.

We kept driving, and as there were other cars on the road headed toward this same area, we kind of just flowed with the traffic.  Before we knew it, we were looking for parking very near La Jolla Shores and a few minutes later we were barefoot on the sand, running toward the sea.

It sort of just happened?  Roux was giggling and B and I were exchanging the kind of glances shared by parents as they marvel at the magnificence that is their child brimming with wonder.  The whole thing was magical, and not just because the waves crashed with a spectacular neon blue glow.  It would have been fine if it were just the three of us on the beach, but we weren’t alone.  Other families were there, couples were there, individuals, people all come to witness the natural beauty of this phenomenon.  Sharing in this experience with strangers, I couldn’t help but allow the lump in my throat to grow and spill out through the corners of my eyes.  How badly I miss existing with other human beings.

An entire calendar month – April 2020 – passed in quarantine.  It’s part crazymaking and part comforting (for a homebody like me, anyway), but wow.

If school were in session, we’d be dressed in all white with flower crowns in our hair.  We’d gather together on our grassy field and sing spring songs and skip around the Maypole, colorful ribbons dancing in the gentle breeze.  Instead, we’re home.  The big kids are wrapping up another week of virtual learning and the little one is counting down the seconds until his rest time is over this afternoon to welcome the weekend with a hard-earned episode of Mr. Rogers.

As for me, I’m headed out to brave the grocery stores to restock our supplies for the coming week.  I plan on picking up a few bunches of blossoms for us to play with this afternoon, crafting arrangements and garlands and crowns of our own, to bring a bit of the season into our space and remind us that the Earth is blooming, and she invites us to do the same.

This morning, my son’s precious Kindergarten teacher shared a poem she composed for her students and I could not love it more:

A May Poem, by Anna Masters

The earth reaching up towards the sun. The

fairies and the garden One

Let all the chores be left undone!

Enjoy the fruits and daffodils

Rejoice the flutes from the hills

Bring smiles and joy from your sills

Green and golden, pink parade

Fairytales of this are made

Hands upon our hearts are laid

Joy! Joy! Joy! Upon you shower

As budding forth comes each new flower

Today is the day, and this the hour

Upon that strikes the merry chime

With your family join and dine

The earth’s bounty now is thine.

Beltane blessings, dear friends.  The fire burns, for all of us.