It only took one time, but I am a floating sound bath hog. It was an experience I think about almost every day, still, months after having done it. It has taken me all those months to write this post because I wanted to keep this place all to myself, but that’s not nice. I’m finally spilling the beans because Wednesday night, April 24, you have the opportunity to experience the full moon floating sound bath run by Kristen at The Deep End. The pool is in Kristen’s house. That is a true story. It is also a true story that Kristen is an astrologer and, I suspect, an angel. You’ll know what I mean when you meet her and see the effort she puts into this event. It’s so over the top it’s…it’s…it’s like if you hit the bottom of your Christmas stocking to find a ball of gold jammed into the toe instead of the usual warm orange. Think intentionality. Think well-organized. This support group. Think sound bowls. Think many, many, many sounds bowls. Think yourself into the pool, floating and supported by hammocks or noodles, think yourself in a room with glass walls and what looks like stars all over the ceiling. Think yourself surrounded by Reiki practitioners in the water with you, women who go from person to person, placing a sound bowl on your body, making music of you, helping you fly into your deepest self with the energy of their hands as the woman playing the larger sound bowls turns the entire room into sensation. Even if you, like me, can’t get to Kristen’s house on the full moon and have this experience, what you can do is to remember your body and mind and spirit’s hunger and need to let go and float, to feel supporting hands, even if they are your own, saying, I’ve got you. But if you do get a chance to go, please write to me and tell me every detail so I can float along with you. www.findyourdeepend.com

I fell in love with Curio Spice Co. when I was living at Spirit Hill Farm in Sebastopol, California, and found online, through Curio (which is located in Cambridge, Massachusetts), sea salt from both Martha’s Vineyard and Maine. I got to eat my childhood memories in a place that was thousands of miles away from the Atlantic Ocean. Your memories were of salt, you might ask. Not exactly, Silly, I might answer. I was using poetic license, something that allows me to drive my writing wherever I want to go. The salt reminded me of the Vineyard and its red clay cliffs; it reminded me of the freezing water that used to turn me blue when I was a kid in Kennebunkport. The salt told me: you can have it all. You can live far from your childhood home and still taste it. The salt also told me someone really cares about flavor. Someone really cares about how other people experience the world in their mouth. I mean, getting the ocean into a jar in a form where someone can sprinkle it over their dinner and then finding a store front to sell it is not a simple process. During COVID, I went a little Curio nuts. I bought twenty-five small glass jars and labels and bought Sri Lankan Sweet Cinnamon and Lebanese Sumac and Guatemalan Green Cardamon Pods, and Massachusetts Shiitake Mushroom Powder. I bought many other spices, as well. I liked collecting them, but really I had no idea what to do with them. When I left Spirit Hill for Boston, I put my spice collection into storage, because who needs Sicilian Chile Flakes to write a book about the winningest coach in Ivy League history? I miss those Chile Flakes. I miss all my glass bottles and the labels I’d had so much fun creating, misspelling the words on purpose just to make myself laugh. I wish I had brought them. But guess what? I now live less than 15 miles away from Curio and have been there many times. I went to a cheese tasting event where I got teary over the deliciousness of saffron honey. I went to a book signing event and learned about Italian snack foods and was reminded of how thrilling it is to be alive and to make and share delicious food with others. I went to, last week, a spice blending class where I had no idea what to do with myself. I can order spices and put them in jars so my kitchen looks nice, but use them? Combine them? Oy. I will write more about this in a day or so. What I want to say is that this is my first blog post for my new website. At some point, I will pull the posts from the old site I feel are most important and create a book from them, but for now I am reveling in the opportunity to create myself through writing, yet again. I spent about seven years blogging about what it was like to be adopted, and now I’m going to blog about what it’s like to be curious, hungry, and eager to both find the next wonderful thing and to fully immerse myself in whatever thing I am currently doing. To be here now, but to also have a finger out, testing the winds of the future. I love my new website so much. That’s another story, and I’ll get to it. But for now, enjoy the bunnies. I hope they make you as happy as they make me.