The Spectrum Fitness in Santa Monica—my gym that I love walking four blocks to—is decked out in gauzy black cobwebs and cutouts of purple cats and glitter-adorned pumpkins. I appreciate the nod to the approaching holiday, but the brimming bowl of chocolate candy at the front desk—the front desk of an exercise facility—seems somehow counter-productive. (Snickers + elliptical = vicious cycle).
I had a good feeling about you, October, and here you are, nearly over, November biting at your ankles. It has been a lovely month, full of fall: rain and pumpkin frozen yogurt and a few fall birthdays and some sporting events and not enough sleep. It has not been a month of writing, which I don’t enjoy but that I don’t necessarily regret, as it’s been a month of more people and less quiet alone time. It’s been hard to pick out the funny little gems and weird moments that I usually like to observe: I was too busy rushing from A to B to notice all these things, and this is something I regret. I’ve scheduled myself in busy hour blocks on Monday through Friday, and then similarly fun chunks of time on weekends, and here I am, a month later without a post to speak of. Time weasels by, slippery and quick, without those written words.
I’m listening to Travels With Charley on audiobook, and Steinbeck, as always, is so right: “So much there is to see, but our morning eyes describe a different world than do our afternoon eyes, and surely our wearied evening eyes can report only a wearied evening world.”
Morning eyes are cranky on the 10 to a dark downtown at 6 a.m., and my job makes me tired, and evening eyes are weary and generally happy to be home and cooking in a lovely apartment, and then some tea or wine, and then a nice bed. What lies between, I suppose, is where the writing is, and I’ve got to excavate it.
My favorite blogger–the writer I should like to be—Gretchen Rubin, as always, points me in the right direction with a saying of William Morris: The secret of happiness lies in taking a genuine interest in all the details of daily life.
Mindfulness, and observation, and genuine. A few details of my daily life, mundane but mindful, I suppose. I have a golden yellow scarf that I’ve really been enjoying pairing with maroons and reds, that I am in fact wearing right now, and that feels like fall and sort of funny. There was a mail truck parked in front of my apartment building, and I rushed by it (late, pretty standard) and saw through the open door a banana and an apple resting on the passenger seat (the left seat, in the case of a mail truck), and it was so humanizing, of the absent mailman, who brought himself a banana and apple for an afternoon snack. I was awoken one Saturday morning by chainsaws and noise and ventured out to find a group of men hacking away at the semi-dead but still alive bushes and trees in our apartment courtyard. They left that day a barren expanse of dirt and we were all dismayed until the next Saturday when they returned and put down full green grass and a cute little tacky fountain in the middle. Upgrade! Unexpected and free.
And then a bowl of mini-snickers at the gym. Yes, I did have one, right before I checked facebook at one of the three computers in the lobby.