March 19, 2026

Yesterday, I took my first yoga class since I’ve been back in Massachusetts. It was painful. I was grateful the woman next to me was wearing a watch and, after class, I decided to tell her that. “I’m so glad you were wearing a watch! That was hard.” She smiled genuinely and said something about 45-minutes being long enough. That’s where it ended, as it should. Still, my heart was open for just a bit more. Not too much more, but more. I walked outside to the hall in my bare feet. “Oh the floor is cold,” I said to the woman next to me who was putting on her shoes. She smiled thinly - a little more of a stiff upper lip. No cheese down that mouse hole. I feel like an idiot with some of these folks, my small talk is all off, but I know I have to keep trying.

I fear I have lost the art of connecting. The story about how Americans are facing a friendship crisis or recession resonates. Even though I have not done so since I’ve been back, I do “solo dine” - which has apparently increased by 29% in the past two years. I am not alone in having lost the art of connecting. Nonetheless, I will keep trying.

Blaze and George arrive tomorrow. They were arguing last night and sent me conflicting voicemails after I had gone to bed. They don’t like each other’s tone. They say I took the one carry-on bag, which I did not. (Catherine currently has that one in Denmark.) They both say they need a break from each other. It doesn’t sound good.

I have tremendous guilt about not being there in person. While George is well equipped to fend for himself, I worry about Blaze and how she is faring without me as a buffer. I am a softening influence on things. I do domestic things a bit better, in her estimation, including the laundry and cooking and cleaning and finding missing things. Most importantly, however, I am the person “in between” when there is fighting - the person physically there, to interpret what the other person meant to say, and how they might have said it better - also to suggest that if one could look past the tone, they might discover the root cause of whatever the tone issue is and try to be more understanding and forgiving. I have no professional training around any of this but we have seen enough therapists as a family and, in Blaze’s case, individually, that I can do a pretty good approximation of what a professional therapist would say if they were negotiating all this.

I have to admit that I am also relieved not to be there, not to be in the middle of this latest argument (which is about tone of voice and a missing suitcase) as I so often am, but instead, get to weigh in asynchronously, which the three-hour time difference allows. I go to sleep before things really heat up. When I call first thing in the morning, they are still asleep. I am concerned about their thirty-six hours of travel which will undoubtedly be stressful, but all I can do at this point is feed the sourdough and stock the fridge and hope for the best.

I revised my elevator pitch about myself to make my time in the Berkshires seem less temporary (and maybe it is?) and to include the thing my coach said I sounded most excited about during our last session: “a 20-hour-a-week job and health insurance!”

While I acknowledge that to be excited about a 20-hour-a-week job with health insurance may sound boring and pathetic as shit, it actually does excite me. I was recounting the neighbor woman’s job - the woman who has kids my same age - and while the museum part was great, the actual best part was the number of hours and the health insurance.

“That’s the most excited you’ve sounded about anything since we’ve been working together,” my coach said.

“Really?”

“Yes. You got really animated.” I thought this over. And it’s true.

“Only in this country,” my coach said, referring to health insurance being exciting.

Yes, I think. And still. The appeal of a part-time job and health insurance gives me goosebumps. Because I live here and also because of what I’ve been through. Because of what I am coming out of.

So, this is how I revised my elevator pitch for myself:

I’m from California where I’ve been a documentary filmmaker for twenty plus years. My house and studio were lost in the LA fires in 2025. As I recover, I’m making my home in Williamstown to have a secure foundation. I’m really excited about all the cultural and artistic happenings in the Berkshires and look forward to potential collaborations and projects…(beat) Of course, a part-time job with health insurance would be amazing! (Ha ha)

The last part is to be included as an off-hand kind of joke, even if I’m deadly serious and it’s actually the most important part of the elevator pitch about/for myself. An off-hand line that says what I actually mean and want. That puts the notion into the universe in case anyone has any question about what I am open to doing and what the terms could be that would close any forthcoming deal.

I also mentioned to my coach that I have missed writing. I have been out of my routine with all the back and forth in the past three months. I have missed the ideas that would sometimes come when I was in the shower or driving or walking the dogs after I spent my mornings writing. I want to get back to that.

In other late-breaking news, the recluse next door has a visitor - a car parked in her driveway that’s been there all afternoon. I’ll admit to watching and waiting - and hoping for more clues: a door flung open - a clearer sign of life - the sound of music - maybe the mysterious animal suddenly domesticated and being fed out of her hand?

In terms of cultural and artistic happenings, there was something I admittedly avoided doing last night, even though I was curious about it. A community collaging session at The Clark. Maybe it was something about the enthusiastic expression of the grey-haired lady in the promotional materials but I just felt like it would be an event where I would be excruciatingly uncomfortable, even if I would get to practice my new elevator pitch. So I “gave myself grace,” as they say, and stayed home.

Still, these are the sort of things I am meant to do if I am going to meet people and try my elevator pitch in the real world. It does no good if I memorize and practice my timing with the off-hand “money-line,” dropped in at the end, as a joke, but also loud enough for all to hear - if I am alone, pitching for myself only to myself.