Stretched

















I took this picture of Willem a few days ago when I was picking him up from surfing at Salt Creek. I love this skinny-yet-buff, growing-before-my-very-eyes phase he's in. It was the same with Schuyler, before he got all tall and manly-looking, which I'm still trying to get used to. At about this age, they look stretched and hungry all the time. Willem is so darn cute, and growing up so fast, I just want to hug him and feed him. (I hope he doesn't read this. He'll be so annoyed.)

Surf, shower, breakfast
school. Snacks, homework and more snacks.
Dinner, dessert, snacks.




Baptism at Brooks Street
















water and Spirit
bestow grace and belonging:
communion of saints

My godson Vasco was baptized today in the ocean at Brooks Street. I was honored to be a part of the service, and, along with his other godparents, shared some thoughts on what I hoped Vasco's baptism would mean to him. This is what I read:


When Cathi and Maury asked us, Vasco’s godparents, to say a few words about our hopes, wishes and prayers for Vasco, I thought about a poem by Mary Oliver I had just read in a book they gave me for my birthday. It made me think of Vasco, and the long journey that brought him from Malawi to Chicago to our little tribe here in Laguna Beach, and the sense of wonder and also grace that I have seen Vasco bring to each new experience.

I also found in this poem echoes of a prayer that comes from the service of baptism in the Book of Common Prayer. So I’m going to read both for you—the prayer and the poem, and Vasco, today as we receive you into the household of God, these are my hopes, wishes and prayers for you:


Heavenly Father, we thank you that by water and the Holy 
Spirit you have bestowed upon this your servant Vasco the 
forgiveness of sin, and have raised him to the new life of
 grace. Sustain him, O Lord, in your Holy Spirit. Give him
 an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to 
persevere, a spirit to know and to love you, and the gift of joy
 and wonder in all your works. Amen.


Mysteries, Yes


Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous

to be understood.


How grass can be nourishing in the

mouths of the lambs.

How rivers and stones are forever

in allegiance with gravity

while we ourselves dream of rising.

How two hands touch and the bonds will

never be broken.

How people come, from delight or the

scars of damage,

to the comfort of a poem.


Let me keep my distance, always, from those

who think they have the answers.


Let me keep company always with those who say

“Look!” and laugh in astonishment,

and bow their heads.


--Mary Oliver





Becoming Mother

Interesting things, both nature and nurture. Sometimes I see traits in my own children that I have to attribute to DNA, plain and simple. For example, when Schuyler gestures when he talks, I see my brother Geoffrey, and it's absolutely uncanny, because they haven't spent a lot of time together. Then there are things I do, and affinities I have, that I have to chalk up to nurture, and the way I was raised. I often hear people use the expression, "I'm becoming my mother," or "I sound just like my dad!" It struck me as funny and kind of wonderful when I had that realization today. I love you, Mom!

I'm making granola
while listening to chamber music
and it occurs to me
that I've become my mother
(which is a good thing)