Elizabeth Gilbert on nurturing creativity (video from ted.com) . Thanks to Wendy for sharing (not one of the knitting Wendys).

¡Ole!

Read it before you eat it.

At tonight’s Off the Grid, Hapa Ramen veggie bowl had pork broth.

Now I know what that tastes like.

Write or take a night off? Have I earned a night off or will it be the beginning of a slide into lazy sporadic postings? Project over or just begun?

There are important emails I could write, knitting to complete, yarn that arrived today that needs to be wound, and work always waiting to be done.

Clearly, this was chosen. But there’s no photo of my new (bad) haircut, no meditating on the joy So You Think You Can Dance brings this former ballet boy, no grumbling about progress promised by Wednesday on the big work project still not surfacing, no celebration of Judge Walker’s lifting the stay on same-sex marriages from his ruling on the unconstitutionality of Prop 8.

Just this. Enough. (For now.)

Did it.

A month’s-worth of daily posts.

(And, although not always here, I’ve taken a photo each day with this here phone.)

Unfortunately, I tend to do this at the end of the day, tired and not in the best frame of mind. So I do get a little self-indulgent. Or, whiney.

I’m proud that I made the space to do a little typing practice. The kindling of creativity and creation has been relit. The results aren’t incredible writing, just a return to self.

And it feels darn good to be here. Thanks for reading.

More to come. The question is simply what? A month of getting up early? A return to working out? Better living through better cooking?

Lucky me. I get to decide.

My left foot.

It hurts. Been hurting for over a year. Mostly at the start of the day. It’s often so bad that I limp.

I assumed the pain would simply go away. That perhaps I bruised it jumping down off the rope at circus class and it needed time. Then, I thought it was simply tired out tootsies from being on my feet all day teaching at Sock Summit. Around New Year’s I tried to run it off. Push past the pain.

I tried to treat it with ice, rest, massage, acupuncture, ART. I could get the joints in my foot to pop at times when rubbing them. When I started rolling it in a golfball, I was struck by a recovered memory. There was that one day I had accidentally kicked the metal leg of the couch. Really hard. Barefoot, of course. Was that it?

The hurt is difficult to describe. My first steps in the morning burned on the sole. Like a fascial irritation but centered on the ball of my foot toward the outside (unlike plantar fascitis). But there was also a dull ache on the top of the foot, but deep. The bones felt congested, as if there wasn’t enough room for all of them. I wanted to break open the foot and spread everything out.

As I haven’t seen any major progress as months went on, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I may simply have to live with this. Another ache and pain as a result of getting older. My running and athletic days were over. C’est la vie, non?

Something just wasn’t right in my foot. If it had been broken, I assumed I would have been in excruciating agony. Instead, I couldn’t point my toe as well and never felt comfortable in any shoe nor barefoot.

Lately, my only solace has been five-toed socks and toe stretchers. They bring circulation and sensation to the area. I may have ordered some freaky looking slip-ons that should come later this week (they now come in wool!).

Looking at my foot today (being home from work), I noticed how off my “ring finger” toe is. Like a mis-mounted stitch, it has a different orientation than all the other four. One of these things is not like the others… Why did it take me a year to see this?

No wonder things feel out of place. No, I haven’t gone to see a doctor or had it x-ray’ed. I know what good used to feel like. And I miss it. I want it to get better. My foot is sending a message that hurt is not sustainable. I need to get aligned.

(this is also a metaphor.)

I get why they named a whole set of blahs after the first day of the workweek. Mine were compounded by a not-so happy tummy and wanting to have more accomplished than I have the time to complete.

I haven’t yet found anything to photograph today. That’s not necessary for this here typing practice, but I still hope to find something to remember or highlight about this blah. ETA: found it!

What was remarkable?

• Some good news today getting me one step closer to completing a big project.
• An upsetting profile of a former advertising rock star who’s searching for his soul — Alex Bogusky in Fast Company.
• A reassuring article about (not) finding happiness in consumption in the New York Times
• And, of course, good caramels.

They’re all carefully ensconced in their paper shrouds. Likewise, the weekend is all finished up. Pretty darn tasty, too. At least the caramels are.

Caramel posts twice in a row? Life isn’t all about variety. There’s sadly a whole bunch of repetition. Besides, I don’t have much to share that’s special about today.

Breakfast, wrapped caramels, talked to my mom, napped with Janie, laundry, knitted a heel flap, two loads of laundry and a bunch of trash TV. Not my most memorable Sunday. Much on my mind. Much more to do.

In the meantime, Let’s be optimistic, by Marc Johns

We are already into tomorrow and I need to go to bed so I can grab breakfast with my friend and former roomie, Seanie. I’ll keep this brief.

Enjoyed an afternoon at A Verb For Keeping Warm with the visiting Angela, and other sock campers: Leslie, Celia, Marisol. Lunched with Kristine and got to chat with Adrienne and Mike. I miss being social, an especially fiberly so.

The night ended with two batches of salted caramels. One’s already been wrapped in parchment paper, the other’s sitting in the fridge overnight and will be cut tomorrow. If you see me, I may just have some to share. I can’t eat them all!

(I’m off to bed, so please forgive the lack of linking. Not patient enough to code.)

Thursday, August 6, 2009. The first day of classes at Sock Summit. The fear and excitement and magic of the unknown.

I can honestly say that event changed my life. I had no idea what those next few days would mean to me. I am beyond grateful to have been a part of the entire experience.

Who knew that 365 days later I’d be here. Thinking about the future. About being bigger than I believe myself to be in my day to day. Again. About taking on an even bigger adventure? Or two.

Thank you, Tina and Steph.

C received a job offer today. He’s thrilled to return to UCSF. We toasted with sancerre and dinner at Chef Papa.

Here’s to pursuing dreams and moving toward a happier future. (Even if it means waking up earlier.)