I love waking up at 4:15 and watching the sleepy nothingness and stillness and the dark. Oh the dark.
I love swimming at 5am, toes in tepid Lake Harriet water, deserted except for ducks and father who needs a head start.
I love the wetsuit even though the zipper jams and I have to put it on twice because it keeps me warm and buoyant.
I love the coffee hitting lips first thing in morning and the wake up buzz. With cream, but not too much, so the coffee turns light.
I love writing. Slow sentences that are quiet and loud because they are simple but true.
I love the baby, who’s almost always smiling toothy and surprised and curious. Crawling and pulling up and almost walking.
I love Mouse, my marital partner, and other half. Like sand paper, we’re smoothing each other’s rough edges. Without her, I’d be sunk drunk at the bottom of a creek. Even right now, she’s the lighthouse illuminating the dark within me. It’s a thankless job but I love her for it and in-spite of it and because of it.
I love baked apples and walnuts and cinnamon and ghee and the oven that smelds them all together.
I love my mom, even though she’s not here, because she pushed me out and the thing is she’s still pushing me. The tendency is to focus on the dead or forget them. The goal is to overdo neither and balance both.
I love my dad not just because he has this thermos that keeps the post swim coffee hot but because he reminds me that I’m not insane I’m just genetically challenged lol. Which may be the same thing.
I love all of you. It’s utter horseshit sounding but I thought about it while swimming this morning, somewhere grey and wet between the second and third buoy: Ry, wake the fuck up and be grateful for all these folks who read read read your stuff every day. I’ve been meaning to write a book and this morning in the lake a voice in my head said, you need to do it and stop talk talk talking and the voice with his hand on the steering wheel agreed and I’m grateful.
I’m grateful too for my family, which is hard to say sometimes, but I mean my family and Kate’s family, because it has to be the same. I’m grateful for them just for being them. It’s hard because of the above logic about sandpaper, but it’s good.
Wax on, wax off.
Thanks for reading.