The short version of those scrapped posts: insomnia is the pits. I've spent over a month now with an epic case of insomnia that is just now starting to become manageable, thanks to a book with a super-cheesy title and a supportive partner. I have almost gotten to the point now where I'm actually thankful to have to face this - particularly the root of it - because it's teaching me a lot about stress and anxiety and life beyond insomnia. I'm meditating and changing my internal dialogue and all sorts of other calming things with the power of my mind. Better yet, all this introspection and mindfulness seems to be building a tremendous urge to be creative and active and social and to open myself to new things, if only to refocus my energy and attention on that which is life-giving, and to prevent myself from Googling insomnia forums.
Since my last blog entry, a lot of life-giving summer has happened. We enjoyed a weekend of baseball and family time in Seattle. While there I got to visit both Essex (for cocktails) and Delancey (for pizza), which had long been on my list due to my appreciation of all things Molly Wizenberg. I picked a bunch of cherries, completed my first (and only, so far) canning project, and made bread with my own sourdough starter. I visited my family in Boise. I went to a David Bazan show, and an art opening for my friend and former professor. I finished knitting a pair of socks. I read "The Big Sleep" by Raymond Chandler while finding the title hilariously ironic since I read most of it during sleepless nights. We over-nighted at the lake; we picnicked by the river. We rode our bikes to Sunday brunch and around downtown. We celebrated many family birthdays. I embroidered a shirt for my dad. I planted dahlias, which are now blooming, and tomatoes, which I'm now harvesting. We started watching Stranger Things. We revisited our favorite spots at Bowl & Pitcher. We went to friend's wedding, and to a beer festival. I invented new recipes with my CSA haul. We've taken many walks at sunset, and have driven along the Palouse. We are watching the summer Olympics.
|Home from our morning walk - magical June when both peonies and roses are blooming|
|I love the smell of my hands after touching a tomato plant|
|A bottle of wine and a piece of river to ourselves|
|Pizza at Delancy|
|Father's Day present|
|Making cookies with my niece|
|Cocktails at the lake|
|Luna loving life|
|Boutique pensione bathroom in Seattle|
Aside from that, there's that festering need to be creative I mentioned above. The other day I challenged myself to commit to a Creative Hour each day. It could be 20 minutes, too, but an hour is a good goal for me. This helps me think about my creativity each day and gives me freedom in how I want to explore it, depending on my mood. This could be anything from trying a new recipe to picking something from a Pinterest board to continuing on the sweater I've been working on. To be honest, I probably already spend an hour on a lot of these things without really thinking of it, but having that "creative hour" lens really makes me feel that much more intentional and willing to branch out.
So that's that. I hope to check in here a bit more, use a camera that is not always my phone, and show proof of my work. That's what I always intend to do, but in summertime, it's sometimes nice to let these things just sit in reflection mode a bit longer. Speaking of reflection, Joel said something perhaps unintentionally profound to me the other day when we came home after a bike ride. He said, "You can ride up any hill as long as you're in the right gear." I thought about this later and how much that spoke to what I'm going through right now. I've had to do a lot of adjusting lately to account for variations in sleep and energy, but I feel like I'm finding a mode and frame of mind that is helping me get through this chapter, however long it lasts. Our ability to adapt is a gift.