The long way round
Essays
Everything I have been working out since a dog arrived and ruined my composure. Written while I was still in the middle of it, which is the only way I seem able to do it.
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Waiting
Somewhere in the middle of interrogating a plant, it hit me: I had no idea why I was doing this. The monkey mask was one of the first plants I ever bought. Daisy and I had just moved to England, and it was the first place we’d been permanent enough to buy plants. It was…
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5–8 minutes
Paper
Everyone warned me about the dust and the cost and how long it takes. But no one mentioned that for as much as you change the room, the room changes you.
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3–5 minutes
A slice of cake
Somewhere along the way I turned my life into a performance, and everyone around me into an audience. All except one.
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4–6 minutes
One wall at a time
A cold half-finished room, a dog asleep on my feet, and a wall I’m learning to paint. It turns out this is what I’d been waiting for all along.
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Painting all the red flags white
Everyone talks about missing the red flags. I didn’t miss a single one. I just kept painting them white.
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3–5 minutes
Was it me?
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Permission to not be ok
I am missing someone today. Not in a big, dramatic way. It’s softer, smaller, like when the kettle boils and there’s only one cup to fill.
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5–8 minutes
The life that was waiting
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1–2 minutes
Healing doesn’t look like anything
I kept waiting for the moment I would feel better. It never arrived as a moment. It arrived as a Tuesday, and then another Tuesday, and then a walk in the rain.
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1–2 minutes
What I learned about worth from a dog who didn’t know the word
She never asked me to earn it. The warmth of her, the absolute certainty of her presence — none of it asked anything of me except that I be there.