happy birthday and so on.

Three years ago, in the fall, I bought a quilted vest at the Goodwill in Hyannis. It’s faded blue and the shoulders are too big. If I remember right, I paid $5 for it. One of the seams busted open after I bought it, but I sewed it back together. It isn’t flattering and honestly, I don’t think it’s even hipster cool. It’s just a big old vest that I bought at Goodwill and that I love dearly.

I was looking out the window on the bus yesterday morning and saw a man driving what must have been an expensive car. He looked like he felt powerful and attractive and happy with himself. It set me to thinking about the material possessions we derive happiness or pride from. I was actually thinking of it as an equation.

My happiness from ugly too-big vest = his happiness from expensive car.

Or is my happiness > his happiness?

That’s what I was wondering.

Last weekend I saw Searching for Sugar Man at a sweet little independent theater in the West End of DC. I won’t tell you the whole story, but I will say go see it. Especially if you’re wondering about being an artist in the world, or if you’re wondering about finding contentment and living with integrity. It’s a mind-blowing story and told beautifully.

After a dark storm blew threw on Saturday night last weekend, the air turned cool here. It just turned with one snap. I went for a run on Sunday and felt chilly. When fall is ushered in, each year, my body sheds a layer. That doesn’t seem right - I suppose most layers are shed in the spring? But this season turns and my soul feels clean. I can’t overstate it and I’m not being dramatic. I am reborn in the clean rush of autumn.

I associate the strongest feelings of change with the fall. I remember the events with a bit more sharpness. I feel new resolve to live big and dream big and try new things and work harder. It has always been my favorite season. But even the darkest seasons, even the darkest times, have their beautiful moments just waiting to be witnessed just waiting to be seen if you are looking.

On Monday, a woman was walking towards me on the sidewalk, and just as our paths crossed, she stopped and leaned out to the flowers beside the path and she smelled them. It was so beautiful.

I have learning left to do, and I mean that in the broadest sense you can imagine. In everything, always. But I have learned a few things, and one of them is this: In my world, if I want to write, I really have to suffer through some bad writing to get there. Every time, every damn time I sit down to write, I find myself rambling and choking along and thinking to myself, Well this is a big bowl of crap, huh? Really, that is what happens.

But here is what I know. The pieces fit together somehow, they do mean something and they will say something, and I really do have to throw them up all over the place to get there. I have to hate it every single time before I love it and forget that I ever hated it. This is the way it is.

I am making some big goals lately. Some of them have to do with this place and my writing.

By the way, one year ago this baby blog was born when I sat at a desk and wrote in my notebook:

I KNOW I SHOULD DO IT.

And I did.