A Place Only Exists as it is in This Moment

Immersing myself in the ephemerality of being

I am moving and it is really hard.

Ten weeks ago a surgeon sliced into my back and removed bone fragments from my spine.

Fourteen weeks ago I woke up and could not walk.

Summer Art Sale

Fifteen weeks ago I had my life all planned out. I was teaching yoga several times a week. I was revising my book. I had freelance assignments. I knew I was moving to Florida, but the concept wasn’t daunting. I would move as I always had— without too much difficulty.

Moving is much different when I feel like my body is still healing. When my nerve fibers speak to me in ways they didn’t before.

This is the truth: I will never be able to properly say goodbye to Seattle, because I love it so much, and because so much of my history lives here, even as the city is torn down and rebuilt into something different and more homogenous.

I have taken so many walks in the past three months and yet I feel that I cannot take enough walks.

I walk to Gasworks Park in the waning dusk and the smells of lilies and jasmine an…