Textural Whimsy
small rituals, soft days, and a life that feels quietly full
As I write this, I’m sitting on our living room couch eating an almond roca. The small lamps are on, casting that perfect warm glow, and the tonka sandalwood candle is burning in front of me. Leah is in her Ayurveda Zoom class, East Forest hums in the background, and my belly is full. There’s a general aura of peace in our apartment.
Nothing particularly wild has happened these past few weeks. After arriving back from Oregon, there have been no big trips, no dramatic highs or lows. And yet I feel this deep sense of contentment with how I’ve been spending my time.
I’m proud of the simplicity of life. Proud of my random, niche hobbies. Proud of going to bed before 10 pm on a Friday like a grandmother. Proud of the quiet little world Leah and I continually build together, especially over the past two weekends, which have been… peculiarly perfect.
One Friday night, we took an evening walk along Ocean Blvd. Long Beach can be chaotic in a very colorful, overstimulating way, but that night we absorbed it like a movie. We were just characters passing through. Observing, giggling, not taking any of it too seriously. We got home by 7:30, Leah practiced violin, we dimmed the lights, and called it a night.
Saturday morning, I woke up early, moved through some pranayama and meditation, drank ginger tea, and made myself a batch of ceremonial cacao to take into nature for a solo Spring Equinox invocation. As I was leaving, Leah was giving her mom an Ayurvedic netra basti treatment on our massage table in the living room… just a completely normal Saturday morning scene, of course.
