Last night, I saw Julie and Julia. In it, a woman cooks her way through Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking and blogs about it daily for a year. Also, I recently read Sleeping Naked is Green by Vanessa Farquharson, another “blogging for a year” project. She made one green change a day. So I’m thinking about my daily rites. I’ve drafted a poem a day since July 31st, but I’ll stop at #30. It’s just a way for me to swing back into a writing rhythm and discover where I am now as a poet. One year, I did one positive thing for my writing life daily and described it on a huge colourful wall chart. But these days, there are few things I want to do every single day—my routines keep me grounded, but I don’t want them to imprison me as they sometimes did in the past. I do 3 pages of writing every day, usually in the morning, and I write an “Abundance List” (more about that in another entry) every night. But if I miss one of these routines, the world doesn’t end. Sometimes I used to feel that these rituals were the last barrier between me and craziness, but now there are wildflowers, there are forests, canyons, and oceans between me and craziness. Or maybe crazy is as close as the breeze lifting the curtain. Or a fox running in front of my car. Or the poem I write at midnight.