I'm not actually sure

It got to be 11 PM, and I wasn't actually sure if I had done anything selfishly joyful. I had prepped for and had a very good lawyer's meeting, and I had bought tickets for Fun Home at the Public Theater (in October) and I had had a very good editing/story session with Josh on Parting the Waters, and I had had an excellent visit from Brett, and I had eaten some dinner, and I had run out to the coop to pick up snacks for my date the next day (the day you are reading this) with Marcy, and I had gotten called home to meet James' completely wonderful sister for the first time, and I had had an excellent Mussar group, which my group kindly allowed me to join late, and I had watched an episode of bad TV that I am watching so I can write some good TV, and then it was 11 PM, and I wasn't actually sure if I had done anything selfishly joyful.

I think maybe the visit from Brett was, because I got him to come to me, and because we watched my short film and talked about it a lot. That was selfish. And joyful. I think buying tickets to see Fun Home was, because even though buying tickets is not in and of itself joyful, seeing great theater is.


Oh, did I say that out loud? This is what I am like at the end of the day when I am trying to assess if I Did It Right, which is to say that I Won My Day, which is to say See? I Am Good, which is all to say that obviously this is not the most fruitful way for me to prove my life, errr, I mean live my life, but it is the way my brain has been conditioned, and one of the reasons I am trying to just do one thing every day that I absolutely adore and is all for me. So that at the end of the day, I will have had such a great fucking time that I forgot to worry about if I was winning my day.

This bee will save the world

This bee will save the world. And this mint flower will save this bee. And I planted and care for this mint. And I sat and watched us save the world together for quite a long time. And that is a selfish joy.

Brooklyn

Taylor called and asked if I wanted to see a play or a movie. And I did! I also didn't want to go to Manhattan. So we decided to go to BAM to see the new Woody Allen, not because we had any faith in Woody Allen, but because we wanted to see Cate Blanchett in the role of a fallen socialite, inspired in part by Blanche DuBois. The joys were multiple. A date with Taylor. A movie in the BAM Harvey theater. The phenomenal performances by Cate Blanchett and also Sally Hawkins. But the other true joy was running into a little posse of theater friends—writers, directors, actors—and going out for drinks together afterwards. What a joy to spend the evening with my friends, my fellow culture makers, in our little corner of the culture making world, Brooklyn.

Mamadou Kelly and Tartit with Imharhan

With great thanks to Bobby, for inviting me and Josh out to Littlefields to see this show. I especially adored Mamadou Kelly, a Malian Delta Blues guitar master. I know this blog has become a bit more like a scrapbook and less like a thoughtfully crafted piece that ties into my Mussar practice, but part of my pursuit of joy has been to spend more time writing my bigger projects, and that means I need to sometimes spend less time blogging. Thank you for understanding.

The joy of feeling normal

Third time's a charm! I finally made it to Adult Lap swim in the Sunset Park pool! Only, I got there at 8:10, and had to wait in line for my card, and by the time I got to the deck it was 8:15, and I thought lap swim was open til 9, but it was only open til 8:30, so I only got a short little morning swim. So, third time's almost a charm.

BUT ... check this out. The pool is huge. After the previous night's rain it was (or had the illusion of being) incredibly fresh and clean. It was chilly. It was big enough that it actually felt a little bit like swimming in a lake. (With other people. And lane lines.) But something about the fresh morning air and the vastness of the pool were incredibly refreshing, and reminded me of swimming on summer mornings in my hometown. So much so that after I was done swimming, I decided not to change out of my suit, but to just wrap a towel around me and walk to my car to shower when I got home. This is completely normal behavior if you live in the country. It is not completely normal behavior if you live in the city, but I felt great, and actually more like myself than I have ever felt in the city, as I walked the one and a half blocks to my car. Despite people's confused looks. Maybe even in part because of people's confused looks, because they only increased my awareness of the fact that I was doing something that felt very normal to me. And damn, did it feel good to feel normal!

Late additions. Not going to write for long, because I'm preserving my time, but I had the real delight to have dinner with Linda, Don, and Lea—in town from Wisconsin and Minnesota, and hailing originally (well, originally within the context of my knowing them) from my hometown.

And then it was on to meet Josh and James to see the spectacular new play with music, Choir Boy, at Manhattan Theater Club. If you are near NYC, and you have the ability, and there are tickets available, go go go. This play looks at everything I love to see addressed in the theater—race, gayness, teen relationships, our reckoning with history, taking a principled moral stand—all with stunning music and great humor. I am incredibly glad I got to see it, and that I got to share it with my family.

The Designated Mourner

Seeing the play itself wasn't a joyful experience—in fact it was a hard play to watch—but going on a date with Josh certainly was.

As was dashing out of the theater at intermission to get to the restroom, just in time to see Wally Shawn waiting at the open elevator door with an incredibly warm smile and an arm outreached for Deborah Eisenberg. The warmth and connection in his face at that moment made me feel proud to work in the theater, and delighted that I got to witness that private/public moment of deep humanity.

Rugby Solar Cafe

By 8 AM, I had harvested my entire crop of garlic (the first I ever planted) and a few tomatoes and volunteer potatoes. I had pitted peaches, plums and cherries for a mixed fruit right-side-up cake, and made a sage-thyme chicken broth from last night's chicken.  By 9 AM, the cake was done and the garden was weeded, and I was ready to start the rest of my day. Summer on the urban homestead, or as James, Josh and I call our home: the Rugby Solar Café.