So here it is. A big one! 2019.

New Year’s Day –to– Imbolc

The changing of the calendar year was a hugely transformative time for me. During winter, and after the holidays, I felt myself turning inward in a very much needed way. I experienced a sort of emotional hibernation. And it was during this period, leading up to Imbolc, that I made a series of significant lifestyle changes.

As it turns out, these changes would drastically alter the way that I experience my reality.

♥ I started going to bed at least an hour, sometimes 2 hours, earlier than I had before. I was in bed by 9:30, lights out by 10-10:30.
♥ I was no longer watching TV habitually every night. Now, I mostly just watch TV only on the weekends.
♥ I started waking up half an hour (or more) earlier than I had before. Instead of waking up and jumping into the day and the flurry of getting ready for work/school, now I creep out on my own to the living room and start my day either reading quietly with my coffee, or stretching and exercising. This quiet wakeup time has totally transformed how my days unfold.
♥ I began drinking a quart of water every morning before leaving for work. Starting off strong.
♥ And finally, I began deepening my spiritual practice. I became intentional around honoring moon phases, taking ritual baths, reading and learning the craft, and doing spellwork.

This was a real, true “reset” in my life. By the time Imbolc was coming around I felt like I had had a rebirth.

2019 was off and running.

Imbolc –to– Ostara

The world wakes up . . . but me, not quite yet. 2019 was definitely the year of false starts, and in this twilight period between winter and spring, I was certainly feeling them. Awakening and obscuring, awakening and obscuring, awakening and obscuring. My path had been set before me, but it was a very long time before I found the clarity to walk it.

So during this period I felt like I was in limbo. Maybe even taking two steps back, after my big leap forward at the new year.

Then in Santa Barbara, spring 2019 arrived with a flourish, with more cleansing rain than we’d had in ages. Literally. Southern California officially declared the end of the drought. Everything was alive. The wildflowers were in superbloom and the fire flowers were showing themselves after almost a decade of hiding.

But me? I was still hindered. Caught in a false start.

Ostara –to– Beltane

Finally, in April of 2019, it happened. I broke up with Jeremy.

Clarity. Pain. The bonfires of Beltane burning bright.

This separation was a long, long time coming, and to those who are close to me, it came as no surprise. I had been so unhappy, for so many years, despite all my trying. And I guess I’d just needed the time. To gather my strength. To find the strength to prioritize my own well-being.

In fire there is transformation. This was a period of aching change and razor-edge realization. I wonder if a snake feels pain when it sheds its skin?

But if Ostara was my false start, then the bonfires of Beltane had me regaining my footing, plunging forward, ready to begin anew. And there was never any doubt. Everything was high-resolution, crystalline clarity. I was shedding the skin of another life, of a path not chosen, and it hurt. But it also felt like a giant leap into freedom.

Beltane –to– Litha

I could see the life I wanted. Like a bouquet of spring wildflowers, I knew that I could gather all the precious parts to make a magical, beautiful bouquet of my life. I wasn’t there yet, but for the first time, I could see all the pieces around me, just ready to be picked.

I spent a lot of time alone during this period. On the weekends that I didn’t have Waits, I would often stay shut up in my house for days on end, just reading and cleaning and rearranging furniture. Reclaiming the space.

And I traveled to Hawaii, to Maui, for Damian and Danielle’s wedding. I was so honored to be invited. And I spent 10 days in Maui, mostly all by myself. 10 full days and if I wasn’t hanging with Waits, I was entirely alone. I did a ton of reading. I took long walks collecting beach treasures, and brought them back to build an elaborate altar in my hotel room. I did a lot of magic. And I jumped off volcanic jetties into the ocean, and I swam solo every day, and on my second-to-last day I rented a car and circumnavigated the entire perimeter of the island, the Road to Hana and beyond, traipsing through jungle and discovering rainbow eucalyptus groves and chasing waterfalls and getting lost on lonesome, unpaved, barely-there roads on the backside of the island. All by myself.

Alone alone alone.

There’s a verse in an Amanda Palmer song that goes

“Now I have friends and I’m not such a loser,
but I go to bars all alone and I sit there,
and order red wine and I write,
and I like being alone around people.
Yes that’s how I like it.”

And that’s how late spring of 2019 was for me.

Litha –to– Lammas

Midsummer and life was in full bloom. Finally the sun came to Santa Barbara, chasing away the May Grey and the June Gloom. Finally I could bask in the radiant sun. I felt radiant, too.

I had leapt, and I had landed on both my feet. I felt so firmly planted, rooted into my new life. Tapped into something profound.

I was using the new-start lessons of Imbolc and the brave-leap freedom of Beltane, and I was living life on my own terms. I was living the life that I wanted.

My parenting game was on point, and my relationship with Waits just continued to blossom and deepen. My career was thriving as well, bringing me creative outlets, opportunity to learn and grow, and a financial security I had never dared to dream of. And I was pouring myself into my magical practice, and my friendships, and my garden. It was a summer of abundance, where finally, my “cup” didn’t feel like it was always running on empty.

I felt fullness.

Finally.

Lammas –to– Mabon

I had experienced summer in full technicolor. I dyed my hair the color of citrine, of sunflowers, of bee pollen. I was golden.

We had our annual family reunion in Northern California. We camped in the redwoods and I felt at home there. Up on the Lost Coast, it’s perpetually rainy and everything feels alive and it always smells of petrichor. I found comfort amongst those giants

And I travelled to Denver, to visit dear friends. Another trip forged on my own. It was a long weekend of vegan brunches and afternoon microbrews and home-cooked feasts and corn mazes and nostalgic television and walking an adolescent puppy all over every inch of downtown Denver. It was precious companionship with two of my very favorite humans, but also — it was independence. I felt so single, on that trip. So completely of my own person.

When I got back, Waits started school. And soccer season. And we went skating every single weekend we were together.

And when I didn’t have Waits, I was still hermiting myself away. I was utterly reclusive; all through spring and summer I had been basking in solitude. It’s all I had wanted, all the way up until the exact moment that I didn’t.

One day I woke up and I was ready to rejoin the world. Just in time for autumn.

Mabon –to– Samhain

So fall 2019 was all dating and mating. I discovered — and dove headlong — into the strange and foreign world of online dating apps. Tinder and Her, and a local community. I’ve basically been collecting stories ever since.

My friends and I make up silly monikers for all my trysts. There was The Ginger Tree (6’7″, red-bearded). There was Porch Date and Awkward Hang Glider and Culver Girl and The Winemaker and Katherine-Not-Catherine. And the Punk Rock Lawyer.

I was having lots of fun. And then, a few days before Samhain, my 93 year old grandmother passed away. It wasn’t unexpected, and truth be told she had been wanting to die for a long time. For years even. She had been praying for it.

So I was grateful for her sake that her suffering had ended. But still — it’s always painful, and deeply unsettling, to confront mortality. To get up close with Death. And of course, it’s so heartbreaking to have to say goodbye. This was Waits’s first funeral, and he insisted on being there. He loved her. And I’m so glad he was there, for her and for him and for me. For all of us.

Sex and death. Samhain season.

Samhain –to– Yule . . . & Beyond

Everyone tells me I’m glowing. That I have a joie de vivre positively radiating out of me.

2019 has been good to me, and it’s written all over my attitude. I feel rooted, solid, steadfast and strong. Just perfectly present in this life.

So much so that when my boss went in to labor 5 weeks early, plunging me headlong into the crisis of running the entire Intro Bio program with no plan in place and a million fires to put out and a million leaks to plug and other wreckage-evoking metaphors, well, I was able to step into leadership with calm and grace. A parry here, a redirect there, and a creative solution to keep everything afloat. I’m running the show now, at least for the foreseeable future, and the show must go on. It’s going on. And it’s good.

I don’t know that I would have been able to do that, to step into authority with such confidence and ease, even just a year ago. I’ve grown so much in 2019.

False starts. Spring showers. Fireguilding. Solitude. Technicolor. Transformation. Sex and Death. Strength.

2019 has been a true journey, and one I wouldn’t trade for anything. Because now, as this last post on Bonzai Aphrodite auto-pushes to publication, I find myself off on a peregrine adventure. Vesper and I will be chasing the sun, chasing possibility, chasing our wildest dreams, van-camping and surfing and wanderlusting our way through Baja, to celebrate the New Year under the stars on a remote beach on the Sea of Cortez, in who-knows-where, Mexico.

And who knows where we’ll go?

And who knows what 2020 will bring?

More adventure, I say! More travel. More challenge. More resilience. More sex. More laughter. (and tears.) More hurt. More hope. More love.

I welcome all of it, I welcome the good and I welcome the bad, and everything in between. All the soaring peaks and all the stinging valleys. I welcome all that life brings. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Because that’s how you know that the wheel is still turning.





I love you all, forever and always. Thank you for 10+ years of adventuring alongside me.

I’ll see you ’round the internet!

♥
~Sayward
(@sayward on Instagram)

Create family traditions around the 8 sabbats: Imbolc, Ostara, Beltane, Litha, Lughnasadh, Mabon, Samhain, and Yule. Include the coven and close friends. Create community. 8 parties this year!

It was an ambitious goal, but for the most part, I was totally successful! 2018 was the year that my magical practice fully bloomed and rooted. It feels so deeply ingrained in my everyday life, now. And as I’ve finally begun to feel more comfortable sharing this part of myself (mostly on Instagram stories), I’ve gotten so many private messages from others out there, on a similar magical journey . . . or wanting to be!

Which makes a lot of sense. One of the reasons I’ve always been drawn to witchcraft, is because of the way I feel that it connects me to the natural rhythms of the earth. Now granted, there are a million ways to be a witch, and mine is just one of them. But I think this sense of connection is calling to a lot of people, these days.

In my own practice, I am a secular solitary green witch, which means that my craft is based around natural cycles: the monthly waxing and waning of the moon, the slow but steady changing of the seasons, or even the daily passage of the sun, from dawn into dusk. Attuning myself to these natural rhythms bring me a profound sense of connection. It helps to settle the existential angst that’s otherwise always humming softly in the background of my mind. We are each of us small and insignificant, yes — but we are also intimately woven into something unimaginably large and exquisitely beautiful. What a gift!

And that’s why witches celebrate The Wheel of the Year. To remind us of this.

Imbolc — February 1st(ish) — Mid-Winter
“First light in the dark of winter”

Ostara — March 20(ish) — Vernal (Spring) Equinox
“Spring’s arrival”

Beltane — May 1(ish) — May Day
“The fertile earth”

Litha — June 21(ish) — Summer Solstice
“The longest day of the year”

Lughnasadh — August 1(ish) — First Harvest
“Abundance between lightness and dark”

Mabon — September 21(ish) — Autumn Equinox
“The harvest is home”

Samhain — October 31(ish) — Final Harvest
“The witches New Year”

Yule — December 21(ish) — Winter Solstice
“The shortest day of the year”

I’m planning to do a series of posts about the Wheel of the Year, and how I celebrate each of these 8 sabbats, over the course of 2019. I’m so very excited to share them with you!

Lots of Love,
~Sayward

But! I’ve been doing a lot of magic around the Winter Solstice, the full moon, and the New Year, and now, clutching my trusty Scolecite (my official stone of 2019 — it opens the heart, ushers in transformation, and facilitates communication), I think I’m finally ready to sit down and write.

I was planning to say goodbye. Like, officially and forever.

2018 was such an incredible year for me! I feel like 2018 was really hard for almost everyone around me both in real life and online, and hard on the world in general. But in my own little universe, 2018 was hands-down the best year I’ve had in as long as I can remember. This is the year I really stepped back from all the extra stressors (including, for the most part, blogging). I worked on myself a lot and I grew a fucking ton this year. And after an amazing trip to Belize in August, I completely rearranged my priorities. Since then I’ve been parenting better than I ever have before, and my relationship with Waits has grown and deepened in the most beautiful ways. And about a month after I got back from Belize, I got the job! Officially and permanently! I now have a career that supports me financially as well as intellectually and emotionally, and I’m still coming to terms with how totally cool that is. I am so grateful. This year I also reconnected to my corest group of friends, and strengthened my magical practice. My soul feels nourished. I love my life!

And so, I’d thought, maybe its time to let go of blogging for good. This January 28th, 2019, I’ll celebrate 10 years of blogging. And I think that’s got a pretty nice symmetry to it.

Buuuuut then. Then! I did the thing that I always do when I’m contemplating quitting the blog. I started reading back through my own archives. I read about our family Spring Break desert road trip adventure this past year (and remembered that I’ve still never shared the pictures and stories from our day of mining for crystals). And I read about when I got my Masters degree and all I could think to do was go to the great salts flats in Death Valley, to sit in the wind and wonder. I found this absolutely adorable story, about Waits and a popsicle, that I had completely forgotten about. And I read about when I was really, seriously depressed, but at least could find flower fields and a little bit of perspective, at least for a day.

I thought about how much has changed, and how extremely, immensely grateful I am that I have all these thoughts and photos gathered here, so that I can revisit them, and remember.

I thought about future-Waits reading these posts someday, and having that window into his early life, through his mother’s eyes. I thought about, and always think about, how much I wish I had something like this from my own mom. How much it would mean to me to be able to peer through that window into her mind, to see what was going on for her during my early life. It would feel like the greatest treasure.

So okay, maybe I’m just not ready to give up on blogging completely. I want to continue to write our story.

2019. The little blog slowly marches forward. In fits and starts, with extended hiatuses and absolutely no schedule or rhythm to speak of. And thats okay. I’m excited to continue to share, little bits and pieces of my heart, here and there, when I have the time and the energy. Which isn’t much of ever these days. And that’s okay.

I’m really excited about 2019. My year to NOURISH, in every possible way. Everything is moving in the right direction and for the first time, I’m not holding my breath anymore.

I think it’s going to be okay.

Much love to you,
~Sayward

Helloooooo! Hello hello, it’s been a long time! I hope you all had a wonderful summer, the kind that relaxes your spirit and fills your cup right up to the top. We sure did! So I thought I’d pop in, and say hi, and make a little “Pictures Of Things + Le Love List” type post, for old times sake.

First a little update: When I stepped away from blogging last spring, I did so with some very specific goals in mind. I wanted to live more completely and intentionally, to relax and remain present instead of always feeling swept along in the daily labors of my life. I wanted to spend more time with my family — real quality time. I wanted to deepen my magickal practice, and to increase my real-life activism, and to be a more involved mother. And I really wanted to focus on nourishing and deepening my friendships.

I’m so happy to say, looking back on this summer, that’s just exactly what I’ve done.

It’s working. I miss blogging and I sure do miss this space, but at least I’m getting exactly what I’d hoped to gain. So here’s what summer 2017 has looked like, at least in little bits and pieces. I’ve actually been terrible about taking pictures (a by-product of renouncing the title of “blogger”, I guess), but these are a few of my favorite moments:

Waits and I took a trip to Portland, just the two of us. It was really special to travel together for a whole week, and even more special because it was Waits’s first time back to Portland since we’d moved away!

That’s right, 5 years later wee Waits Rebhal made his Pacific Northwestern return. IT WAS SO FUN. He reunited with so many of his little weegan pals, and it was truly a beautiful reunion (no seriously, click on that link, it’s heart-meltingly adorable), and we also got to spend some much-needed time with family.

The second half of the summer seemed to mosey right along, nothing too spectacular and everything easy peasy. It was a lemon squeezy kind of summer.

And then, so suddenly it seemed, it was all coming to an end. It was the very last weekend of summer vacation, and we were camping again. With the same adventure mama and her wee adventure boy, and Jeremy too this time! A summer sandwiched neatly between two epic camping trips. It was perfect.

It was a wonderful final weekend; a respite and a chance to recharge before diving back into the chaos. Waits was starting second grade (!!!) and I was also starting a new beginning that Monday. My boss had gone on maternity leave, and I was stepping into her position for a few months.

I’m the boss, now. (sometimes I look around and wonder — how did I actually get here???)

On the final Sunday morning, the same ritual. A new set of intentions. Written in magic, inked on leaves. Our dreams for autumn . . .

And now, it’s time for the one, the only, Le Love List! I’ve been saving it on my phone all summer, adding little events as they occur . . .

Impromptu family dance parties in the kitchen. There have been quite a few of those, actually . . . // Jeremy introducing Waits to Bruce Lee. // BABIES. All my friends are on “round two” it seems (haha, oh 30s) and my nearest and dearest are pregnant or with newborns, and it’s soooo good. I keep catching baby fever (not good) but spending time with the wee ones is enough to set me straight. I’ll be wacky Aunt Say to a whole little crop of witchling children, and I’m so excited. ♥ // In that vein, I really did catch Baby Fever like whoa. And Jeremy and I did a lot of deep soul-searching, long late-night conversations that lasted weeks. But finally, we came around to the place we’ve always been: one and done. So now we’re dreaming and scheming of all the thing we’ll get to do instead, and that’s pretty dang fun as well! // After completely burning out a few years ago, rediscovering the glory of the massaged kale salad. NOM. // Waits walking around the house in his little miniature plaid boxers that Jeremy bought him, because he wanted big-boy boxers just like Jeremy. ♥ // Wine on the beach with girlfriends. Like, weekly. // Saying the words “It’s going to be tough, but it will be really good for my career” for the first time because really for the first time, *I have a legit career*. And holy shit that’s an amazing feeling. // The woman who owns my neighborhood Botánica. She always knows which candles and powders and charms I need, and she always tries to undercharge me. She is one of the kindest women I’ve ever met. // Dinners composed entirely of chips and salsa and guacamole and refried beans and margaritas. That’s pretty much my eating-out summer standard. // Feeling confident. No, I mean *really* confident. For the first time in my entire life. Feeling like I’ve finally arrived at this place I always wanted to be — where I’m strong and happy and kicking ass and having fun and doing good work and living authentically. It’s real. This place is real.

So alright guys, that does it for me, for now. Thanks for reading. I hope with all my heart that all of you have had an incredible summer. If you feel compelled to leave a Love List, I’d love to hear it!

Happy Monday, happy week, and happy impending autumn. I hope it brings you everything you wish!

♥

At the beginning of the year I announced, sort of on a whim, that I would be doing a “Pictures Of Things + Le Love List” post every single week in 2017. This one was supposed to be 20/52. But instead of hitting publish that week, I just stalled. And procrastinated. The truth is, I didn’t know how to put into words this thing that I’ve come to realize. I don’t know how else to say . . . I don’t want to be a blogger anymore.

I’ve been trying to find a gentler way of expressing that. And I feel like I owe you guys an explanation, so I’ve been trying to find the right words.

I still don’t think I have them, but here goes nothing.

I’ve been blogging for a long time. I mean, a really long time. And over the course of these 8 years, I have had the opportunity to do so many amazing things, and to travel, and to learn and grow. I’ve shared my highs and my lows, from birth to divorce, and pretty much everything in between. It’s been beautiful, for me, to be able to do that.

And it’s been beautiful to meet all of you. Over the years I have talked to hundreds if not thousands of people. People from all over the world. Interesting, inspiring, unique, fearless, fabulous people. And I am so grateful for that.

Back when I first started this blog, I really felt like I had a lot to share. I was practically bursting at the seems with it, so excited to learn and to grow and to play — and to do it all in public, sharing my process with anyone willing to pull up a keyboard.

But along the way, that feeling has changed for me. And especially over the last half a year or so, I’ve really felt myself transitioning into a new phase of life. And that phase feels, in many ways, a lot smaller. It also feels so much richer, and so much fuller, than my life has felt in a long time. But I’m definitely turning inward. And I just don’t feel compelled to share it in the same way that I used to.

This poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay has been my sort of creed for the past decade:

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
It gives a lovely light!

I’ve always reveled in my frenzied life. A million projects, a million ideas, a million plans. My most frequently asked question from readers is “How do you do it all?” And I don’t know. Honestly I don’t, it’s just always been my way, to overfill and then deal with the consequences (be they good or be they bad — or often, be they both).

But the truth is that a lot of sacrifice goes into living that way. Sacrifice that I was happy to make at the time — I was fine with forfeiting the things that felt less important to me, back then. But those things I’ve forfeited have grown more important to me as I’ve gotten older. I guess my priorities have just changed.

So over the past six months or so, I’ve been paring down my life. I graduated with my masters degree, and said goodbye to graduate school. We closed the wine bar, and Jeremy closed his retail shop. I scaled back my hours in the school gardens, and last week my contract ended. I won’t be renewing it next fall. And although I miss all of them, every single one of these things that I’ve removed has ultimately made my life infinitely more enjoyable. I feel like I have room to breathe for the first time in, well, forever.

So I’m sure you see where this is going. I don’t want to keep burning the candle at both ends. My relationship, my motherhood, my friendships — these are the places where I want to funnel my energy, right now. I want as little stress and pressure as possible, so that I can just enjoy the people and the things that I love.

This is a very different way of being, for me. But it’s how I need to be right now. It feels so right. So I’m going to stop blogging, at least in any formal capacity.

I really love having this space, as a record of my life and my kid’s life, and as a way to record our adventures. I look up recipes on here all the time! I love flipping through old posts. These pages hold such visceral and important memories for me. So the site isn’t going anywhere.

And I’ve loved interacting with all of you. I’m not disappearing completely. I imagine I’ll blog a few times a year, maybe even more. But I’m saying goodbye to blogging as “a blogger”.

And I hope that makes at least a little bit of sense.

And now, the one, the only . . . and probably the last for quite a while — Le Love List!

Making our first Meadow Tea of the season. Feels like summer! // Coworkers who bring me tangelos (my #1 favorite citrus). // Budgeting like a BOSS. // College bathroom graffiti. // Fellow share-parenting mamas who are on the exact same schedule, so we always have our kids together, and we always *don’t* have our kids together. Beach babes for sunny-baked days with our boys, or a sunset and a bottle of wine for those breezy beachy nights when the kids are away. Our schedules alway match and it makes it all so easy, and I am eternally grateful for that. // Coworkers bringing me homemade coconut yogurt, wow! // When Jeremy cooks for me. // Having a whole day to just putter around the house. Bless those day, ooooh bless them! // Calendula salve = skin magic. // Stability. // Bringing my coworkers big bundles of beautiful rainbow chard from my garden. // Daydreaming of doggos. I really want a dog. // Having a clean house. // Waits and I were on a bike ride and suddenly he hollered “A bird pooped on me!” I was afraid he was going to freak out, but then he started laughing, and he shouted with glee “Mom look! It’s good luck! I’m gonna get GOOD LUCK!!!” And it was so adorable. He’s such a little optimist, and that’s just what the world needs, I think. A little more optimism. ♥

And with that, my dears, I bid you all adieu. At least for now.

I know myself and I know that old habits die hard, so I imagine I’ll be posting more on Instagram now, as a way to stay connected. Who knows, maybe I’ll just move to microblogging completely. Either way, I’d love to see you there. @sayward

Alright, farewell friends. With love and gratitude,

~Sayward

♥

I met Jeremy at Vegan Beer Fest. Have I ever told you that story?

I met Jeremy at Vegan Beer Fest. He was tall and handsome and really outgoing, and he talked a lot which was great because I was pretty shy. And if I’m being honest, I wasn’t super interested in Jeremy that day. I mean, I wasn’t disinterested, I just . . . I wasn’t looking for love. I was looking for adventure — a great story to tell my friends back home. “A wild night in LA” sort of thing. So when this rather persistent, rather attractive vegan dude stuck himself to me like glue, I thought “Well hey, let’s have an adventure.”

Beer Fest ended at 5:30 and Jeremy suggested that my friend and I join him for dinner. We agreed, and in a flash he was popping into the corner store to purchase a nice bottle of wine. He called us a Lyft (my very first experience with ride sharing, I was so confused) and whisked us off to this adorable little Thai restaurant on Melrose Avenue. It was an awesome dinner, followed by a stroll down Melrose, a pint at a pub, and lots of talking and laughing. And like I said, I was just along for the ride. I felt no sense of attachment. I was living in the moment, with no thought of the future.

My friend decided to bail around 10:00, so we walked her back to the hotel room, and suddenly Jeremy and I were left alone on an empty sidewalk in Hollywood. It was at that moment that he kissed me for the first time, and that’s the moment my entire life turned upside down. Panned out while zooming in, disorienting in perfect, crystal clear focus.

Because chemistry.




You either have it or you don’t, and damn — we have it. In that one moment all my feelings towards our interaction changed. I went from “whatevs, it’s an adventure” to “MORE I WANT MORE OF THAT YES PLEASE AND THANK YOU”

Pretty powerful, a kiss.

After Jeremy said goodbye that night, I couldn’t get him out of my head. I was buzzing the whole next day, and I texted him the following evening. He was a little surprised (he had planned to play it cool and wait a few days), and for the first time in my life, I was bold and aggressive in my pursuit. I was basically like, “Hey, in a week I’m going to leave for Vida Vegan Con, and I’ll be there for a whole week, and I really don’t want to wait almost 3 weeks to see you again, so how about I come back to LA in 4 days and we go out for a real date?”

I mean, what can I say? It was a really good kiss.

That Thursday I drove back down to LA, met Jeremy at his work, and off we went for a fancy dinner at Crossroads. He brought a really amazing bottle of champagne and gave me a Tom Waits CD and we ordered a vegan cheese plate and it was all just delightful. And then afterwards, on the way back to his house, he pulled out this CD. He told me “This is one of my favorite musicians — I’ve been following him for years. He just released this album, you’ve got to hear it, it’s amazing.” And he put on Matt Pond’s The Lives Inside The Lines In Your Hand.

I remember driving through LA, warm summer air on my face late at night, snaking down the 405 on a first date with an incredible man, feeling like my life was cracking open to wild possibility. I felt heady. And this music was the soundtrack to it all.

And then track 3 came on. The song is called Starlet and Jeremy said “This is the one I keep listening to, over and over.”





If you don’t want to watch the whole video, I’ll just quote the chorus:

I know, I know
I know, there’s so much I don’t know
I still know someday I will make sense to someone.

And this became our song. Jeremy and I have talked every day since that first date. And while we were falling in love, living 100 miles apart, I would fall asleep listening to this song. He would text me lyrics from this song. We would slow dance together to this song. And even now, I can’t listen to this song without feeling a flood of love and emotion.




So anyway, flash forward 4 years.

Jeremy has moved to Santa Barbara, opened and closed a business, I have started and finished graduate school, and we now run a weekly pop-up wine bar that operates every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night out of an eclectic little French Crêperie.

And we still love Matt Pond, who just recently released his latest album, Winter Lives. Jeremy is on Matt’s email list, and Matt has embarked on a “Living Room” tour, traveling across the country playing small intimate shows in people’s homes. It’s a great idea for a musician, cutting out the middle man much like ride-sharing (Lyft) and home sharing (AirBNB) and, well, restaurant sharing! And anyway, so then Matt pond sent out an email looking for a place to play in Santa Barbara.

Which is how it came to be that this past Sunday, February 26th, we pulled up in front of our own little wine bar, and we got out and greeted Matt Pond, fucking Matt Pond you guys, and he was like “Hey, thanks for having me play here” and we were like “Sure dude, thanks so much for playing” and it was all so casual and normal and completely unreal.




All the pictures are blurry. The whole thing was kind of a blur, really. It was a packed house, a happy crowd. Matt and his guest musicians were so sweet. Jeremy and I were both just kind of in awe the whole time. Working, serving wine and making chit chat. Just a blur.

And yes, he played Starlet. Jeremy had emailed him beforehand to ask, and he obliged. He dedicated it to us, and he stood there right in front of us, and he sung us our song. I really just can’t describe that feeling.

It was a single moment of perfect bliss. Where the whole entire world telescopes down to a single point, and every thing falls away. Like a first kiss.

I still have trouble believing that it happened. Even now, writing this post, looking at these pictures, it doesn’t seem real. Like if I saw it in a movie, it would seem so cliche, so “tidy”. What a perfect ending.

But it was real, and it really was the perfect ending to Five & 1/4.

Sunday was our last night of operating the wine bar. It was a decision we came to pretty quickly, but one that we feel very confident about. Jeremy got that new job and he’s really loving it. It’s a good job, a really good one, and he doesn’t want his attention to be divided. And me, I have my garden kids. But I also have some really exciting potential opportunities for a more lucrative, more long-term sort of gig. For now, I’ve added a temporary position out at UCSB, back in my same bio department, back with the old familiar faces and people that I love. And who knows what will happen next?

What Jeremy and I both know is that we are done with burning the candle at both ends. Done working twice as hard for half the pay. Done having no social life, no energy, no down time. Owning your own business is exhausting, and working every weekend is a bummer! For the past year and a half we’ve missed every birthday party, every art opening, every music show. We are sad to leave behind the community of small business comrades, wine geeks, and vegan foodies that we’ve built, but we’d be lying if we said we weren’t also completely relieved.

Right now, as I write this, it’s Thursday evening. Usually right now I’d be bustling around in a flurry, trying to get the wine bar ready to open after already working a full day outdoors in the garden with 11 (YES ELEVEN) groups of kindergarteners. That’s what my Thursdays used to look like.

But no, instead I’m lying in bed blogging with a cat on my lap. And later, I’m going to get gussied up, and I’m going to go on a date with that sweet, hard-working, handsome man that I met so many years ago at Beer Fest.

Life is hard, guys. Life is work and life is failure and life can feel absolutely unrelenting. Unforgiving. It’s all so messy and complicated, and it pretty much never works out how you expect it to. But also, if you’re living it right, if you’re living all in with your wild heart thrown wide open, then sometimes life will give you these incredible moments of pure, unadulterated magic.

That’s what I felt last Sunday, and I’m going to carry that moment with me forever.

As always, thanks for reading and for sharing in this adventure with me.

~Sayward

♥

I wanted to take a minute and use this space to share some of what has been going on in my life over the past few months. Now that I’ve graduated I’ve been blogging more, and I’m so happy to be back! But taking such a long hiatus, well, a lot of stuff has changed in my life during that time

So, in the interest of honest blogging, and just of being on the same page, let’s play a bit of catch up. Yes?

We Shuttered Still

A little over two years ago, I joyfully announced that Jeremy (and I, sort of) had opened a business. Still – Elevate Your Ethanol was a retail space in downtown Santa Barbara, devoted to the art of cocktail craftsmanship. We sold “everything for your bar but the booze”, including tools and accessories, barware, vintage glassware, mixer, syrups, shrubs, and the largest bitters tasting bar in the county.

And it was really fun and really, really hard. Still was a labor of love, and we loved it, but it was a lot of labor! It’s a pretty niche market and unfortunately came at a time when cocktails were going mainstream, so we had a lot of competition from places like C&B and Sur La Table, etc, siphoning off our customers and undercutting our prices. Which is fine, that’s business. I’m not making excuses. It’s just the reality of the situation and what we were facing at this particular moment in cocktail culture.

So anyway, there are a lot of reasons why Still didn’t make it, and I’m not going to get into all of them here. Suffice it to say, we tried, but ultimately we couldn’t sustain the business financially. So Still closed its doors . . . for now. We do hope to launch Still 2.0 sometime in the future, following a different business model and finally selling artisan/small batch and high-end spirits. But that’s another story.

We closed Still right around the exact same time that I graduated, so my life and Jeremy’s life have both shifted in major ways, at the same time. Jeremy has been battling pretty serious depression and anxiety for the past few years (much of that is related to running a struggling/failing business, obviously), so although closing up shop has been sad, it has also meant an incredible weight was lifted. For the most part, January has been the most relaxing month either of us has had in literally years.

We are both regrouping and trying to figure out what will come next. We are both optimistic! Still was an amazing opportunity to connect with all the movers and shakers of the Santa Barbara bar and restaurant industry, and Jeremy has developed so many important professional relationships. And that’s how we’re viewing it: Still was just the first step of many. Not an ending, but a transition. And now we’re both excited to see what happen next!

I Got This Whole Other New Job

It’s true! Actually, this happened way back in August, way before I finished school, which is part of the reason my blogging really dropped off. Jeremy and I were co-running the wine bar, plus I was in graduate school, plus I was (always, obviously) momming, and then I got this whole other part time job, and there went my life! But when a job this perfect comes along, you do whatever it takes to make it work.

So yes, I am now officially a Garden Educator. I get paid to play in the garden, my very happiest of places, and I can’t even tell you how grateful I feel. I work for Explore Ecology, a local Santa Barbara non-profit organization that runs the school gardens (among other environmental programs) for the entire county. Because of their work, there is now a garden in every single elementary school in Santa Barbara. They employ a team of educators, and we maintain the gardens and most importantly, work with the children.

Now I spend my days digging in the dirt and nibbling kale with my kindergarteners. Turning the compost and sowing cover crops with my 8 year olds. Talking photosynthesis and sautéing up turnips with my 12 year olds. It’s so much fun; it’s challenging and creative and physically demanding and more than anything, it feels like some of the most meaningful work I’ve ever done.

And now that I’ve graduated, I’m expanding my hours. I had been doing 2 schools and I’ve recently bumped up to three. Plus, I’ve taken over the social media for Explore Ecology! So, if you want to see adorable pictures of happy healthy kiddos digging in mud and munching on homegrown vegetables, follow us on Instagram! And if you want to learn about natural, organic gardening techniques, as well as upcycling/recycling/conservation projects and other green living tips, please follow us on Facebook! These two social media channels are very different without a lot of crossover (something new I’m trying), so you might want to follow both. I’d so appreciate it! It really is an amazing organization and I couldn’t be more proud to promote the work we do there.





So, those are the two major updates in my life! Now, when I refer to my job or “my kids” or “today in the school garden”, you’ll know what I’m talking about. And when I mention Jeremy’s new work projects, you’ll know that Still is closed (for now). And we’ll all be on the same page.

Okay, now that that’s done, I feel like I can really move forward and start blogging like a pro again. I’m so excited to share recipes and DIYs and tutorials and information, just like the old days. Speaking of which – would you mind telling me what you want to read about? If I’m going to start this blog back up, what are you hoping to find here?

Thanks guys, and I’ll see you ‘round the Internets!

~Sayward

Progressives are often accused of acting like “special snowflakes”, which I guess is meant to imply that we’re delicate, and fancy ourselves as oh-so-unique and precious, and which is also made extra ironic considering the insult is often hurled at us by folks who literally lose their shit at hearing the words “Happy Holidays” OH THE HORROR.

But anyway, I like snowflakes. And you know what? They are unique, and each one is special. Every single snowflake is different. That’s what makes them beautiful.

And on Saturday January 21, 750,000 special snowflakes descended on Los Angeles. And 2,900,000 special snowflakes gathered around the globe. And they did what delicate snowflakes do when you add them all together.

They created an unstoppable avalanche.

There is a line from Hamilton: “This is not a moment; It’s the movement”.

And that’s what it felt like we were witnessing on Saturday. The birth of an entire movement. And like any birth, it will be messy, and the contractions will sometimes make us uncomfortable, maybe even be downright painful. But that’s part of the work. And there’s lots of work to do.

In the aftermath of Saturday, there has been a series of pieces written by women of color about how they experienced the marches. And although almost every woman, including the women of color, that I have spoken to or heard from (even in these pieces, to be clear) has said that ultimately, the march they attended was uplifting and positive and felt like solidarity . . . these negative experiences are *also* true. Simultaneously.

And that means there is more work to be done — especially if you are a white/hetero/cis person reading this. There is more work to be done inside our own progressive communities.

Woman in Viral Photo From Women’s March to White Female Allies: ‘Listen to a Black Woman’

When You Brag That The Women’s Marches Were Nonviolent

Women of color are being blamed for dividing the Women’s March — and it’s nothing new

One indigenous woman’s take on the Women’s March

I hope you’ll take the time to read these pieces, and please feel free to leave your own contributions in the comments, if you’ve found a voice you feel needs to be heard. And please, share your own experiences! Did you march?? Was it magical? Tell us all about it.

Solidarity, my reSISTERS!

♥

Well, I finished school.

But I don’t really know what to say about graduating. The experience was at once both strangely anticlimactic, and totally transformative. Since I finished mid-year, there was no official ceremony. It was just . . . one day I was working really hard on my final paper, and the next day my committee was saying “Cool, this is good, we’re done here.”

And then I sort of wandered around the department saying good bye to people, not really knowing what to do with myself. I cleaned out my desk, and I picked up my last prescription at Student Health, and I paid my outstanding parking tickets. Then I got in my car and drove away. And I just . . . never went back. That’s it.

At the same time though, I have to acknowledge how completely changed I am. I mean, I am a different human being than I was 3 years ago. Profoundly different. When I entered graduate school, I was a bit of a wreck. I was still figuring out my divorce, freshly landed in Santa Barbara, I had tried to make it work as a freelance writer and as a vegan health coach, but I just couldn’t meet the bottom line of life in oh-so-expensive southern California. I felt like a failure, like I wasn’t good at anything, and definitely like I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grow up.

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but my new plan is to just mostly not grow up.

Here’s what I do know: I am smart. For the most part I don’t like *doing* science, but still, I am a scientist. And I do love *teaching* science. I can write a kick-ass grant proposal (100% success rate). I can lead a meeting like a boss. I can manage a project like a pro. I can oversee a team. I bring creativity and playfulness to science education. Most of my peers don’t “get” me. But my mentors and superiors respect me. I do things my own way, sometimes to my delight and often to my chagrin, but in the end: my own way works.

Those are the things I really learned in graduate school. I guess I have a bigger brain now, and I get a nifty piece of paper that says so. But mostly, for me, what this experience has been about self-building. I am confident now. I feel solid, and capable. I feel like I have skills and those skills are valuable. I am valuable.

And right now, with the world crumbling all around us, with the incredible uncertainty of what this coming year will bring, I am so, so grateful for all that I’ve gained in graduate school.

I feel strong. And, I want to grown stronger.

I also don’t really know what to say about Death Valley. Except that, it calls to me. This was my second pilgrimage out there this year, and I know that’s just the beginning of my relationship with this strange, sacred place.

Death Valley is a landscape of extremes. It is one of the hottest, and driest, places on earth. And when you’re standing in the valley, between two mountain ranges towering thousands of feet above you, you’re standing where dinosaurs used to swim. Can you imagine that? It all used to be under water, and dinosaurs used to do the backstroke down the valley, millions of years ago.

If that’s not magic, I don’t know what is.

My favorite place in the park is Badwater Basin. My partner-in-adventure and I stumbled upon it the first time we visited Death Valley, wandered out barefoot over the great salty flat, felt the crystals crunching under our toes, felt millions and millions of years of stillness surrounding us, and we knew: this is a special place.




When you stand on the salt at Badwater Basin, you’re standing at the lowest point of elevation in the entire western hemisphere. 282 feet below sea level. You are, quite literally, as close to the heart of the Earth as you can possibly get.

It’s a powerful place to practice magic. And I knew that after finally finishing my degree, after this terrible tragedy of a year where everyone good died, including The American Experiment, well — I knew that I had to go to Badwater.

So that’s just what we did. We walked out into the middle of the basin, far, far beyond the end of the path. Far, far, far away from any other people.

We called the corners, and we cast the circle, and we invited the power of the desert.

It’s amazing what you can discover when you open yourself up to the wisdom of the Wild. We learned so much out there. So much. Death Valley did not disappoint us, and we left the desert strengthened for what lies ahead.

Happy Winter Solstice, my dear ones. Happy holidays, and may your new year bring you a little bit closer to the Wild.





♥ ♥ ♥

8 years.

8 Years is a long time, and these past 8 of mine have been some of the most magnificent, and most harrowing, years of my life. In these 8 years I have loved, and lost, and loved again, I have made a child and built him inside my body, out of my body, out of plants (mostly burritos), and I have been sick and I have been better, I have moved from a home I loved in Portland to a broken home in Santa Barbara, built a new foundation and formed incredible friendships family, watched my little baby boy grow into a bright beautiful firecracker of a creature, his body still built completely of plants (mostly Magic Beans), and I have loved fiercely and I have fought demons, I have hit rock bottom and also, miraculously, I have recovered. And fought onward.

8 years is a really, really long time.

During summer I eat watermelon for breakfast pretty much every day. Big bowls, I mean BIG serving-bowl sized bowls, overflowing with crisp cold perfectly juicy red flesh. It’s one of my greatest pleasures.

On this particular day I had a late-morning appointment, so I set out on foot for a slow stroll to my destination. It was such a lovely August day, all warm and ocean-breezy, everything blooming and vibrant and alive. Quintessential summer.

My walking sunbath nourished me as much as the watermelon did. 8 years in, and I’ve learned that health and wellness go so far beyondsomething as simple as the food we put into our bodies. We need sun and serenity, nature and quiet and connection. Good, plant-based food goes a long way, but optimal health is ultimately a product of the mind.

That’s the greatest thing I’ve learned, 8 years in.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch!

Jeremy was bustling about in the kitchen, getting his food geek on and flexing his creativity which he so rarely gets to do. Preparing for me a feast of a lunch, featuring produce from our garden and flavor pairings unlike any I’ve had before (I love his culinary mind, so different from mine, and so untethered by convention).

When I arrived home, hungry after my meetings and my miles of walking, I was greeted with this:




Mostly raw, but with a protein punch — just the way I like it! This was so amazing and I can’t even begin to describe it. And a beet rosette! A homegrown beet rosette!

Speaking of homegrown beets . . .

After lunch I was able to spend some serious time down in the dirt in my garden, which is my absolute favorite place to be. There was so much to harvest — so much abundance! — and I’ll do a garden update sometime soon. Sunflowers and strawberries and herbs and greens and of course, the beets. My garden is overflowing!

In the evening we both showered and got a bit gussied up, just a bit, and made our way out for a dinner date. We intended to hit our favorite noodle bar but alas, they close early on Mondays! Oh well, we wandered on through downtown Santa Barbara, not really knowing where we were going, but trusting that we would find something good. And with a little of that Veganniversary luck, we struck gold!

We found a recently re-opened Mexican restaurant, with a gorgeous patio and an enticing ambiance. Their new ownership is super open-minded, and their new menu boasts nearly 20 vegetarian entrees! All of which can be made vegan by simple omitting the dairy.

Mmmmm yes.

Our appetizer was house-made chips with guacamole and pico. Also margaritas! And our first course was a roasted beet salad with arugula, apples, and balsamic, and a plate of nachos where each chip had been dipped in house-made adobo.

Epic.

We split this final entree and were so stuffed we couldn’t even finish it. Such a unique and satisfying meal! Gotta love that good Veganniversary juju.

After dinner we made our way back home, a nice long walk on a warm summer night. We talked about our future — about our plans and our dreams. We’re so good at that, Jeremy and I. Always plotting to take over the world!

And we will, I think, in our own little way.

8 years I’ve lived in alignment with my heart, uncompromised in my moral core. It is an incredible gift, and one that I am grateful for every day. Because every day I live my values of empathy and integrity.

8 years down, and the rest of my years to go!

♥ ♥ ♥