I awoke at first light this morning to an empty house full of luscious spaciousness. As the first birds sang, I made the rounds through the gardens, picking gardenias and plumeria blooms. I bagged them and drove to Kauapea, the sacred beach that is my temple where I meet my friend to chant Sanskrit mantras to the celestial bodies on this auspicious day. Read more

In the afternoon for summer solstice sunset I tend the gardens. The air is cool, the crickets sing. I’m pulling weeds in the maize when the rains come. Sunset tangerine hues outline a bursting grey rain cloud that slowly passes above. I’m getting drenched in big drops while I continue to uproot the strays.

Deep satisfaction fills me as I make my rounds from tree to plant. The squall passes and twilight falls as I clear debris and harvest purple eggplant in the last remaining light on the longest day of the year.

In the quiet of the trees and flowers I acknowledge that I am moving in my dream made real. I am living my heart’s desire.

The sink still leaks but I’ve got a handle on it.

I wrote a new song today, the first one in two years.

Random phone call reveals there will be no financial aid for Jeb’s school that begins in 6 weeks. It’s an extra $600 each month.

I go to the beach and soak in the warm tropical sea pool with my son after receiving the news. His arms are tight around me, “go as fast as lightening, motor boat”.

“This boat is docked,” I say. I just want to sit and hug him in the sweet azure water underneath the cotton clouds.

At night I go to a talk given by a couple that say they have tools to feel happy 365 days a year. So many times I feel like I could just break down crying in my little chair. No real reason that I can pin. Just waves of emotion that make my throat feel tight and my stomach knot.

They speak about having life force energy, that ‘juice’ in life and I reflect on how I sometimes wonder if I’m just drying up inside.