TEN. I.

1. The relief felt on an air mattress on the floor in the new house versus all the nights on a Tempurpedic in the last house. The anxiety attached to that place had become overwhelming.

2. Light traveling along our north facing windows and the way it feels soft but still bright.

3. "Love you, momma. Thank you for letting me go. :)"

4. White letters on black felt and all the ways words give breath to space.

5. Needing to be loved harder, louder today after a night of bad dreams and giving voice to that need without shame. And being met without question.

6. Ten boxes a day. That's the goal. And, yet, it is still overwhelming. I wish I could hire someone to unpack for me, someone who could see my vision for this home and who knew exactly where I wanted everything placed.

7. I feel like my cards miss me, but also know I am not in a place to come to them with a clear head. Or maybe I'm not in a place to hear what they have to say. Either way, it is probably time to sit with them again.

8. Palo santo. Smoke curls and ash.

9. Someone remind me to find the time to sit and gather my inspiration for my next tattoo, okay? I want it done before the end of the month, ideally, so I can bathe under the next full moon without worrying about an open wound.

10. Shield maidens and sorcerers.