I quit my job!

It’s true. I’m officially a stay at home mom. A stay at home mom working on her dissertation, starting a biz with her partner, writing, and maybe doing some stray fundraising-consulting. Oh and don’t forget the monks. The monks are coming again in October. The Tibetan monk of Drepung Gomang Monastery. I worked with a friend of mine, David Wellman, so this time the gang will be at DePaul University for a week making a sand mandala and chanting.

We live in a smallish two-bedroom condo right on the lake. Can’t beat the views. Last time we tried to house the ten monks, it was just a bit too squishy. Mostly it was a disaster due to our dog, Henry, who barks…let me just say that meditating and dog barking are not a great combination.

I feel so superficial and free. I feel 1950s. I should get a bouffant hairdo. Buy some saddle shoes. Giddy up! It’s a bit scary to let go of my own self-sufficiency. I never thought I’d be able to trust that much. To allow it. To receive. How odd. How frightening and terrifying and all those other ‘y-ings. But I get that much more time with Sophie, our daughter. 4.5 going on 40. Seriously. Spit fire, that girl. Yesterday it was, “G (that’s Susan’s name – meaning “guardian”), my friends at school exhaust me, can I stay home today?” She’s speaking to the choir, two introverts. Me more so than G, though that is a running debate in our household.

The good news? Well, besides the above I have finally figured out the next book project. And that is thrilling in a secretive sort of way…like shhhh, don’t tell. Not until it’s fully baked. I’m sure other writers know what I mean. It’s sort of a don’t kiss and tell thing. Its sort of an ‘it might suck so just wait’ thing. Who can say? Not me. For sure.

I’m about to board a plane and go to CA to see some gals from high school. We’ve known each other since 1984. Freshmen in high school. Geeky with braces and glasses. Minus the braces and I’m not too much different except a few stray grays that are starting to show at my temples. Funny but my red is turning a big gray. I have at least two strands that I am thrilled about. I love gray hair. It is so elegant. I can never understand why people dye their hair. Why they think it’s old or ugly or unseemly somehow. It’s grace. It’s beauty. It’s dignity. We are growing old. We are not old or elderly yet, but mid-life, such a joy. Such a freedom. I hope I live to see Sophie at this age. I wonder who she’ll be. How she will be in the world.