for a breath, for a spell

sink in

i started this newsletter on june 6, 2022, the first monday of june that year.

i celebrated what would have been my grandma’s 89th birthday.

i shared the question: “how do i/we protect/maintain my/our capacity for grace?” this question was asked by people who want to love well.

it is now the first monday of june 2025.

i am feeling the need for a pause and i am afraid to pause.

i am also afraid of the stale, the obligatory, the wrote. i am also afraid of my own refusal to pause.

i wonder now if that question of grace is less one of capacity and more one of availability — how do i make myself available to receive it? how do i make myself available to give it the fuck away? it seems that pauses have a lot to do with these kinds of availability.

i might see you in July, i might see you in September. at the risk of sounding crazy there are 153 of these for you to look at while i’m quiet, if you miss them.

may grace find you this month and all summer long, and love too, and quiet if you want that.

it’s because it’s on.