Journal

Celebrated a friend last night because it was their birthday, the exact time that you’re supposed to celebrate them. I like to think that I quietly celebrate my friends every day though. I’ve been lucky enough to surround myself with kind, creative folks, and both of those things are worth celebrating every day. This whole group of friends, actually, inspire me every day with both their creativity and their kindness. A slow day because it was a late night, but one of the best nights. A bit of pottering to do, a few chores, and a little nap maybe. In short: a Sunday in sunny California.

A run along the waterfront with the newest member of the No Pros run club today, a gentle 7 miles but my body was punishing me more than usual. My running mate today was faring better than I was, so we’ll need to make sure they’re not too pro—after all, I’m proudly pathetic.

I skipped a couple of posts, and I’ll be honest by saying that this isn’t the first time, but that I usually go back and fill them in. It always feels a bit icky when I do, because it doesn’t feel like it honors the daily practice. If I didn’t write I didn’t write, and I can own that. I stopped filling in my missed morning pages though, and I think it did cause me to miss more, so I don’t know. For now, I’m going to stop filling missed posts in.

I’ve probably written about this before, but I find it really difficult to do something if I don’t do that thing every day. The gap between “daily” and “never” is where many things go to die for me, and of course that just means that “never” wins. I should probably try to improve that about myself, but I’m also a fan of working with your brain vs. against it, unless doing so causes you or others harm. That said, I’ll still aim to write every day, I just won’t beat myself up when I miss a day or two.

I’m trying to figure out what to write in this journal. Publishing a little something every day sounds easy, and it is some ways, but it’s also hard. It’s hard to feel satisfied with what you write. It’s hard to maintain enthusiasm some days. I love writing, but I most love it when I don’t feel rushed, and don’t we all feel rushed all the time? It’s hard to find the moments where you can really spend time with an idea or a memory.

One of the things I most enjoyed sitting down to write was Wise-Guy in the Fog because it represented two slow days. A day spent in the fog at Point Reyes Lighthouse, and a day spent writing about it, pottering around, and wishing I was back there. I was taking a few days in between jobs—the first time I’ve ever done so—and I just spent that time enjoying moments that are difficult to find much of the time.

I thought that I’d find the thing that I want to write about and enjoy writing about it forever, but I no longer think that it works that way. The things that I enjoy writing about and that give me energy change all the time, and sometimes disappear entirely. Writing is both the most joyful and the most painful thing at times. Writing is actually simply a mirror though, and life itself can be both joyful and painful.

Recorded some more dog walk today, and I’m certain that even Cacio was a bit confused about who I was talking to. She must have been trying to stop me, because she took me on a walk along six lanes of traffic and a BART line. Afterwards I spoke to ChatGPT about recording and editing, and then listened to an episode of Time to Walk from Apple fitness. An hour of all of the sounds. It’s so easy to get obsessed with things these days.

Walked Cacio tonight with a microphone clipped to my cap, talking to myself while walking around the neighborhood. Surprisingly few funny looks, but maybe we’re all used to seeing folks do stuff like this now. I wouldn’t have looked twice in London or New York, but it’s way less common in the Bay Area. It was sort of nice, actually, thinking out loud.

I’ll go for a run tomorrow and do the same thing. I’m mostly going to record my runs around the marina or in the hills, but I want to get some practice controlling my pace and my breath, so I’ll continue to give the neighbors a spectacle until I can get out for a good run. No idea where this project is going to go, really, but I’m drawn to it and I’ve learned to just follow that feeling when it comes up. It doesn’t stick around for long.

I love running, and I stepped away from it for so long. I’m glad to be reconnecting with it, and to find new ways to connect with it even more. To connect with the world more and to connect it with other things that I love. I’ve been struggling to find things to write about, but maybe I could write about this. Maybe there’s a story here worth telling, if not now then someday. It doesn’t matter too much—moving your body is good; writing is good. It could go somewhere, it could not. What will be will be, etc.

I was thinking today about an idea—something like field notes… for running. I’m wondering if the miles would go by easier if I was talking to myself, observing the world and commenting on it, seeing what it reminds me of and telling those stories. I have some wireless mics that I could clip to my running cap. I could even fix a small camera to my chest or head. Maybe I’d share those? Maybe I’d just use them to write things down. Not sure.

Something that has felt true to me over the past year or so: if you can combine the things that you already do with the things that you want to do, you might just be more likely to start and/or sustain both. I’ve been wanting to publish audio stories forever. I’ve been wanting to write non-fiction-but-not-work forever. I’ve been wanting to engage with the world more, and really commit to running, and… you get it. Maybe something?

A solo run today, 10km along the Berkeley waterfront. I spent the first half listening to music, and the second half on the phone with my father. I’ve been trying to find ways to make the miles go by a little easier on solo runs, and I do think that talking helps. I’ve run this route a few times now, but I’m surprised every time by how insane the view is across the East Bay, San Francisco and Marin. Just ignore the freeway on the other side.

Vallejo in the evening with some good friends to enjoy a space that their friends opened a few months back. We spent New Years Eve there, and it was so awesome see this place that folks had poured a lot of love into. We talked with them about the beauty of plywood and the cool things that Charles and Ray Eames did with it. We also ate burritos and cookies—both of which were great, the latter of which had a perfect amount of salt.

Woke up early-ish and walked to the coffee shop for a flat white and some banana bread. Saw a few colleagues there, and felt like I was experiencing a parallel universe in which I live in a neighborhood where I know all of the people and think they’re all great. Walked back to the beach afterwards to drink coffee and watch the waves for a while.

Managed to hang out with a few folks before catching my flight. Talked about starting a micro-press, shared a lot of laughs, and generally felt so inspired by these folks that I get to collaborate with every day. A good reminder that you can be all of kind, hard-working, optimistic and ambitious. Grateful to spend time with folks.

I woke up at 5.30 today to walk down the pier and see if I could catch a dolphin sighting. We didn’t manage to spot any, but it was nice to just stand there and stare out at the ocean with good company. Made me wonder why I don’t stare at the ocean more often, and why I don’t walk with friends more often. A long day afterwards. Tired now. Time for sleep.

Walking along the waterfront with a colleague today, I was reminded of the moments that rarely happen in a remote world. We talked about things I doubt we’d never have talked about over video/phone, or at least not in as much depth. It’s the kind of thing that feels inefficient when you’re in a scheduled 30 minute slot on the calendar, but sometimes you need to wander. Sometimes you need the 23 seconds of silence that’s deafining on a call but pleasant when strolling and listening to the ocean.