a little cottage on the ocean where i could spend my days creating and writing and working and playing with the windows wide open to the sound of the push and pull of water and sand and time.
an evening spent with my head on jon's chest as we talk about our wildest dreams for our future and i listen to his heart beat with each rise and fall of breath.
sitting at a kitchen table on gerow avenue with the smell of sausage and the taste of cranberry juice and the feel of the brown faceted heavy juice glass and the sight of the jelly jar filled with violets and the sound of her voice as she talks to herself at the stove.
a conversation with my brother where we really listen to one another and show up as our true selves instead of showing up as the roles we think we are supposed to play because of the path behind us.
blueberry pancakes and fresh orange juice and the sunday paper spread across the kitchen table as i sit cross-legged and just take in a day with nothing else to do.
being surrounded by laughter until my sides and the muscles in my face hurt and just for a moment i am convinced that all must be right in the world.
feeling at peace in my own home instead of feeling like i am drowning in my created mess.
stepping off a plane in paris and setting off just like natasha to explore and eat and drink and dream and take in every drop before being so very glad to get home.
an afternoon with my mother, just the two of us, with no phone calls answered or email that need to be checked or people that need us to solve something...just the two of us.
(this prompt is from sabrina ward harrison's book the true and the questions. michelle mentioned it recently, which prompted me to take it out again.)