Out of Sync

October 2024 || Altering paths, where possible, to reset ourselves in time.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. This code has expired!” the smiling barista said.

I stood there perplexed. My reposed, dollar-off coupon glared back at me, taunting. It was only seconds, I’m sure, me standing there blinking and staring. Blinking and staring. Thoughts barely formed as I processed my grave error.

I’d just checked the date, hadn’t I. October 10? But it’s — oh wait — it’s October 25.

Just that morning, after ten weeks of (sometimes harried) driving to and from the big kids’ new school, we’d walked there instead.

Over the last couple of months, I’d mention this mode of transport to the kids the way you might, having never done it before, imagine baking bread from scratch. It sounds good in theory and has all kinds of added benefits, but when it comes down to it, who can find the time?¹

“It’s just a mile,” I’d say. Then either the kids or the goings-on of a school morning would make it very clear that the fifteen to twenty minute earlier departure time was a big ask. Not to mention the backpacks often loaded to the brim.

Last week, though, I knew something had to give.

I love October, I do. But really? It can be a lot.

As long as I’ve been a mother, but especially as the kids have gotten older, it’s been jam-packed with sports and seasonal activities, many we’re obligated to and others we keep in the name of tradition.

Somehow, still, we steal away for a week, mid-month, and spend long days on our favorite beach, lingering until sunset many nights. Time stands still while stretching, us soaking up the sun, saltwater, and togetherness. It’s expansive in that way until the last day or so, when it’s all gone by too fast and we sense the demands of life at home returning.

Only this return combined with a super moon, dodgy hormones, the political landscape, and frequent disturbances in our neighborhood, and I’ve felt all sorts of upside down and out of sync.

Sure, the leaves are turning, falling, and crunching under my feet but I feel out of place. My heart and mind have been two weeks behind, and strange as it sounds, I know from experience that walking — a practice I’ve been neglecting to resume with any priority or regularity since my fall last year — is the way I get back into rhythm.

It was impeccable timing, then, to read this piece, and be reminded that it is both adding walks and altering our paths, where possible, that would help me find some restoration and inspire recognition of the important and timeless lessons the Creator offers in the natural world, in seasons, and the way we walk through them and our communities, both alone and together.

So we walked to school, that day, and then the littlest and I took twice as long to walk back while we identified and picked wildflowers and trailing vines along our way, stopping for treats at the coffeeshop before home.

At the register, I finally shook off my bewilderment and could only laugh, the barista joining in. “You know, what’s funny is: I actually saw that date and thought I was fine. Seems I’m a few weeks behind” I said, “maybe I’ll catch up by November.”

Still, she gave me the dollar off my drink and later, handed me my drink, and quietly said, “Good luck with the time travel.”

📝 Writing

Speaking of time travel… I’ve been beating my head against the wall this month on my revision of the opening chapter of TOSOH. My first act is the weak link: too much exposition, far too many flashbacks, and it takes too long to get into it.

Since my decision not to shelve this novel I’ve played again and again with condensing the first two chapters and really begin in the third where things are very, obviously messy. Get there quicker, is the phrase I keep hearing in my head, but the tone is very, shall we say, shame-y?

The other day, I daydreamed about tossing the whole thing and rewriting this story anew and honestly — is it weird that I kind of want to do it?

📚 Reading

I read Mary Oliver’s House of Light, from start to finish in one day, this month, and I dare say — I think it’s my top-ranked cover to cover collection of hers. This one was a favorite:

At Sundog Books in Seaside, my annual book pick ended up being Wendell Berry’s Another Day: Sabbath Poems, 2013-2023 which came out in August of this year. I’m taking my time with this collection, but this is the poem my copy falls open to every time which is… really something:

🎧 Listening

Coldplay’s new album Moon Music has been the perfect accompaniment to a month with the closest super moon of 2024. Fun fact: my voice was used — along with 137,203 fellow fans on the track “One World.” It may seem silly, but seeing my name in that huge credits list is pretty thrilling!

I recently discovered best-selling author Elin Hilderbrand (whom I’ve yet to read! gasp!) has a podcast. Curious, I started poking around her author guest list silently hoping to see one specific name, though, given his preference to stay out of the limelight, the chances were slim. But there he was! I enjoyed this episode immensely as both a writer and as a fan of Backman and his work.

“My characters are very rarely based on one person. It’s like orange juice. It takes a lot of oranges to make one glass of juice. It takes a lot of real people to make one good character.”

— Fredrik Backman

📺 Watching

My daughter and I have started watching Gilmore Girls together, this fall. Though we’re taking our time and only six episodes in, we’ve shared plenty of laughs, great post-episode conversations, and her shared appreciation for a huge part of my teen and early adulthood television watching is all I could ask for!

✨ Enjoying

It had been ages since I’d made Rice Krispie treats, but after having a bite of some browned butter ones my neighbor friend made awhile back, I dusted off this recipe and wondered why I don’t make these more often! I omit the salt from the mixture and instead, sprinkle with Maldon flakes while they’re cooling!

I’ve been hard at work on our Halloween costuming, which is far more DIY-ing than I’ve done on costumes in quite a long time. Actually, maybe ever? Verdict’s out on how it’ll all come together or whether — after a whole month of hardly any rain — we’ll get soggy, but here’s to hoping our wildest family costume dreams come true. (Though I’m not sure anything will ever top our Ghostbusters year, for me.)

True story is, I drafted all this before things took a twist, this week — quite literally — and my poor girl went down on the PE field and ended up with a sprain.

I know she’ll recover quickly, and we’re grateful it wasn’t worse, but it hurts to heal, sometimes, and missing the end of her first season on the first-ever Middle School Girls team is disappointing, to say the least.

With her being one of my most faithful and encouraging readers, I wanted to take a second to say: Sometimes the sync we need comes from the slowing of unexpected stillness. Often times it hurts, in more ways than one, but always — you’ve got this. That “walk” will be waiting for you when you’re ready, and best part? You won’t walk it alone. 💙

See you in November,

1. I know plenty of you do and you’re amazing for that! Just the other night I listened to a woman describe her sourdough process as though it were as simple as brushing one’s teeth, while I sat there feeling like a toddler with velcro shoes trying to imagine a life with laces. I’ll stick to my peasant bread, for now.