Seasons 2023

Last year I wrote about a new writing practice that I’ve taken into another year, and I thought I would share what I produced here. I get two paper calendars in the mail thanks to an organization I used to donate to and one from my bank. My inner environmentalist and dendrophile has to make use of these, but I don’t like hanging calendars on the wall. My professional and some of my personal life is organized by the tyranny of a digital calendar, so this practice of writing short reflections on these calendars makes use of the paper. Makes me feel better to write by hand, to be honest.

In 2022, I used one calendar to jot notes about my professional life and the other about my personal life along with the trials and tribulations of living through menopause. There was too much overlap. It was hard to decipher what the “Fuck This” or “Nope” or “WTAF?!” referred to until I cross referenced my digital calendar. The reflections got a little disorganized. Discombobulated. Confused. Clearly still very much in the dark corners of a depression that 2022 of mine. Onward.

In 2023, I kept the same practice, but I organized things a bit, so it was much easier to decipher my actual naming of the weekly seasons. I went down the rabbit hole reading about the Nijushi-Sekki, and fell in love thinking about time listening to Jonathan Bastion discussing time with Oliver Burkeman.

Quick aside: I did write a quick note on my calendar about how much I laughed when Jonathan shared his story about crying while eating pretzels in a port-o-potty during the Leadville 100. I was not laughing at his suffering during that hard mountain bike race, mind you, I was laughing at how I could so relate. Nothing is worse than training for something and having it all go to shit.

I reread what I wrote last year, and I now see I was still emerging from a pretty solid season of depression. In 2023, things were better–the highs were high, the plateaus were easy, and the lows were really fucking low, but that just might be the path of this life of mine. That might just be life, I’m learning. The year was good to me, however, as the seasons roll on by.

Since I’m plagiarizing a Chris Cornell song on the second blog post in a row, can we pause to read this gorgeous set of lyrics? What kind of gods can exist in this world who take Cornell from us and leave buckets of shit behind like Chins McConnell and The Orange Fascist. This election year promises to be one of the longest of our lives, but I digress.

Anyways, the poetry I was praising: 

Sleeping with a full moon blanket

Sand and feathers for my head

Dreams have never been the answer

Dreams have never made my bed

Also joyous: A friend’s teenage daughter asked what my husband and I looked like in the early 90s, and I sent her a screenshot of the cover of Singles. She believed me. He and I didn’t even know eachother in the 90s, but we’re old as hell to her. I wait for her to discover either Cameron Crowe’s movie or the album and be like, “What the fuck, my mom’s friend…wait…”

Screenshot

If I should be short on words/And long on things to say. (A Memoir)

You should treat yourself to a listen to this song.

Okay, to wrap this up, a quick writing report. I have partnered up with a woman who has shared her book with me, and she in turn is the first person to be cursed with my tome in its entirety. May all the gods bless her. At the moment, I’m so sick of it I can’t bring myself to revise or write, so here I sit babbling into The Magic Machine. This counts as writing, right?

Here are the seasons week by week as they appeared in different inks of many pens on a free calendar paid for by the overdraft fees of my credit union comrades.

2023 Seasons

Season of full moon delights

Season of greening mosses

Season of nurse logs and mosses

Season of light remaining longer and ease

Season of staring at the sky turning different shades of white

Season of the stitch journal

Season of longer afternoons and light

Season of spring buds and mountain snow

Season of cold weather and graying skies

Season of birthday aloha

Season of try slow

Season of seeing tulips again

Season of sunny cold blue sky mornings

Season of cherry blossoms

Season of writing and revising again

Season of cherry blossoms falling because of the rain

Season of the coldest month in 100 years

Season of traveling to Atlanta and a tiny home near Athens

Season of illness, recovery, and loathing airplane travel

Season of warm weather and planting flowers

Season of wild rose and longer bike rides

Season of sorting gear for the first backpacking trip of the year

Season of warm weather gardening and planting

Season of All The Things in Denver, Colorado

Season of the 2nd backpacking trip of the year & officially livin

Season of new ferns unfurling on mountain trails

Season of focusing on solo backpacking & revising 

Season of the Olympic Peninsula by ferry

Season of rest and enjoying being home

Season of hiking near the tides and up and down Olympic mountain passes 

Season of darkness coming earlier

Season of too much heat and dryness

Season of smoke in the sky making it oddly cool & eery

Season of Oly Pen, how I love you

Season of autumn on the way

Season of fall glory in the trees

Season of darker skies coming early & BBQing by headlamp

Season of autumnal splendor and rains falling on the last backpack of the season

Season of blowing leaves and rain

Season of autumnal splendor riding bikes

Season of ochres and rouges

Season of light changing hourly

Season of desert sun and the Blood Moon in New Mexico

Season of light fading in the west

Season of leaves blowing wildly by the window

Season of first frost in the morning

Season of white cap waves at high tide

Season of foggy mornings

Season of nesting, sorting, tidying, and giving things away

Season of lighting candles in the morning

Season of winter solstice

Season of listening as the end of year bonfire throws sparks into the sky of a new year

Greetings, 2024.