Seeds

For a seed to achieve its greatest expression, it must come completely undone. The shell cracks, its insides come out and everything changes. To someone who doesn’t understand growth, it would look like complete destruction. ~ Cynthia Occelli

It is Semana Santa, the highly celebrated week before Easter. Many party boats are in a hurry to herd vacationers out on the bay. Smart whales departed before the festivities, though dolphins still make an appearance. I tow a small white buoy when I swim, and sometimes wear a red cap, depending on traffic.

This morning, small silver fish with pale yellow tails boiled the water around Habibi. As a portable reef, we are an excellent food source. 

A friend recently allowed me to use his address (thanks Paul!), and I was able to order a few of my favorite things: a kilo of sunflower seeds, six bottles of non-stinky soap (hallelujah!), three water filters, a big bag of organic camomile, and six colorful composition notebooks.

It’s amazing what the right-sized notebook can do for a writer’s spirit (7.5” x 9.75” in case you’re wondering). Today I’m using the purple one, labeled Book 73: Stay Tuned. Yes, I’ve titled and filled 72 notebooks since I evacuated Olympia in 2013. They are housed in a cupboard adjacent the navigation station. Apt, as they helped me navigate the complete destruction of my previous life. 

It is Good Friday. Time to celebrate resurrection. 

Seeds of Peace, eggshells stuffed with poems, confetti, and dried flowers, set in grass in a glass bowl, 2011