trust: the unfolding adjustments of life on the road

each time we move, we have to readjust.

and this year, we are in almost constant motion: from one place to the next. maybe staying in one spot for a week, maybe for two weeks.

(we were in the Boston area for a very long time, but we still moved around.)

and each place, we have to readjust.

we unpack. make the space our own. find places to grocery shop and (safely, for me) eat. figure out the patterns of our days.

in this place we're currently at, in Montreal, we do not have a television to hook our Roku up to, so we are playing many more games (and M is working much more than usual).

we also don't need to use the car to get around, which is one aspect of city living that I have particularly missed. walking to the grocery store. walking to restaurants. walking for fun.

each place has it's pluses and minuses.

in New Hampshire, we did so many outdoor-nature things. here, we're outdoors, but it is all urban.

(trees vs graffiti. neither wins. I love them both.)

this is the unfolding. this is the readjusting. this is what this year is all about, for me.

finding ourselves in new places. readjusting.

cultivating flexibility.

cultivating an expanding understanding of how we exist in the spaces we inhabit.

cultivating our selves as our sense of home.



tomorrow night is Kol Nidre, the start of Yom Kippur. once more I ask, if I have hurt you, please let me know so that I might make amends.

I do my best, as a human being, to refrain from malicious actions, and to apologize as needed in the moment, but I am human and I do all sorts of things wrong. I cannot always see the ways in which my actions or inactions affect those I love.

please give me the chance to make things right by letting me know when I have hurt you.

may you have an easy fast, if you are fasting. may you have a beautiful day. and may you adjust to the unfolding events in your own life with increasing flexibility and grace.