Static

I've decided that just about all my problems can be summarized with one sentence: I over-think things. Its like my life is a novel and I'm constantly deconstructing the main character's (me!) motivations and flaws and actions. It's fucking exhausting, to be honest.

I'm making an effort to stop doing that so much, but the process has just underlined just how often I fall into the habit.

My goal for the summer: to just jump right in whenever and however I can.

Vive!

Memorial Day Along The Mendocino Coast

So we spent Memorial Day at the Mar Vista Cottages in Anchor Bay, CA just 50 miles south of Mendocino. It was fantastic! We rented a two bedroom cottage with our friends TheKrayberts. Tom and Renata, the owners of Mar Vista, have created a lovely sustainable and organic garden that visitors are free to graze for their evening meals. We harvested some wonderful lettuces, kale, chard and a plethory of spices. The nicest touch was the basket of fresh eggs on our doorstep each morning--still warm from laying!

Other highlights from the weekend include a visit to the Point Arena Lamb and Pork BBQ for a little local flavor, a morning spent horseback riding on the beach, the Gualala farmer's market, a visit to the Point Arena Lighthouse, an afternoon hiking through redwood forests to a waterfall and hanging out by Rod and Mark's overzealous campfire.

I posted some pictures to my flickr page, but here are some highlights:


View from our cottage at Mar Vista.



Guala Farmer's Market


TheKrayberts harvest greens for dinner at Mar Vista.



Rod harvesting herbs for dinner at Mar Vista.



Waterfall along our 6 mile hike.



Horseback riding on the beach.



View from Point Arena Lighthouse.



Point Arena locals at Lamb & Pork BBQ.

One Thing I Didn't Miss

I forgot how friggin loud New York is. Between the sirens and the traffic and the way even inside cafes people just seem to talk so loudly, there's a constant hum the city generates.

But I'm easy: just sippin' my decaf coffee, soaking in the city's white noise.

Still jet-lagged though. The red eye blows.

The Only Drawback to San Francisco Is That Its Hard To Leave


Me @ the Point Arena Lighthouse.

We just got back from spending close to two weeks in San Francisco--staying with our friends Mark and Kathleen, and my sister Gabi and Amanda, visiting with my friend Liz and generally enjoying life.

I feel so relaxed that even the 85 degree humid Brooklyn air doesn't phaze me.

Its going to take me a while to unpack, fix photos, and process all I experienced and learned while we were on the Left Coast but in the meantime I wanted to air some truths I stumbled across.

I've been telling everyone--and blogging--since the week after the miscarriage that I was okay. That everything was fine and I wasn't going to dwell on the negative. I was just going to pick myself up and move on.

Tra-la-la-la-la.

God. What a fucking lie.

I've been a mess for three months straight. I fell into an unrelenting negative thought pattern--a rut. A state of such deep depression even I couldn't really see it or what it was doing to my family--by which I mean Rod.

I stopped calling or emailing my friends. I stopped blogging. I stopped going out. And the whole while I kept repeating to myself, to Rod, to anyone who happened to ask, "Oh no. I'm happy! So happy! I mean, I'm alive and nothing all that bad happened to me and at least I know can GET pregnant, I mean that's good, right?" (And this despite Rod's wide-eyed exclamation: Huh? You are so NOT fine.") And the crying? A fluke! Something in my eye!

I don't know what it was. Certainly the hormonal fallout--plummeting hcg levels then rushes of estrogen, progesterone, lutenizing hormone.

But there was also the sense of failure. My body had failed: hadn't managed to hold onto something that was so precious to me. I was angry at it: and in the weeks following the miscarriage I punished it by dieting and exercising as much as I could. You are worthless, I told it.

These two weeks in SF, though, I took it easy. I slept. I ate. I walked slowly. (I hiked too, but I didn't drive myself the way I normally do...)

Sometimes all it takes is the slightest nudge to shift everything back into perspective.

It wasn't my body's fault that pregnancy ended. In fact, the entire concept of fault missed the point. You plant ten seeds in the garden and only a fraction of them will make it to seedlings; even fewer to full fledged plants. There's no meaning; no fault. It just is.

So I return to Brooklyn more at ease. Less haunted.

Not that I'm completely back to my normal self. But at least now I can see how much work I need to do and how far I'd sunk. The cure? Healthy eating. Appropriate exercise. Constant social contact. A lot of forgiveness. And the joy of summer blossoming before me.