Spaciousness of Blank Pages

Greetings. This will be my last love letter from the canyon. My next love letter will come to you either from the road (somewhere between the West Coast and East Coast) or from Asheville, NC, where we are moving to as a family. Originally, we planned to take a two-month cross-country road trip this summer while creating different stories and content for BK, but the plan shifted along the way. After much deep contemplation and reflection, we decided to leave the canyon and head to the East. 

What comes to my mind the most is my gratitude for the last three years we lived amongst the ancient oak trees. I can sense that there has been a shifted orientation in how I experience the world as I re-read some of the love letters I sent during our time in the canyon. I reflect on the friendships I built and nurtured and feel so much tenderness and depth within them. Some changes that happened in the last three years are more visible, like having some of my (minor but) chronic symptoms that always lingered in my day-to-day life in the city leave my body. Also, having to obsessively dive into different passions like tending native plants, surfing, and participating in Capoeira have been such a joy. Perhaps the biggest change I sense is my willingness to lean into my intuition. Through pages after pages of writing during the last three years, filled with questions, ponderings, observations, and expressions, one constant has been the honing of listening to my voice. I am so grateful that the spaciousness of blank pages and earthiness of the canyon have given me a much-needed container to process all that... and that's how I was able to make a mental leap from our planned cross-country trip to a bigger move. 

A.C.'s story for this month is about how their stream-of-consciousness pages revealed the deeper truth about their inner desires. I also enjoyed reading Brian's story through Trina's most recent "Notebook People." I think it's interesting that the acts of personal writing reflect, mirror, and reveal how we interact with our lives and the world. We get to know so much about ourselves and each other through these stories. s.

Even though our family will depart from Southern California, Baum-kuchen will remain physically in its current location in Altadena with our team members. And, of course, I will be around both in person whenever I visit LA and through our wider BK world.  

A big shift like this comes with a complexity of sentiments, and I have been trying to slowly capture them on Substack. I am also taking time to live through this experience as presently as possible. Most importantly, I am curious to find out how my future journal pages will unfold and what I might scribble on those pages. 

-wakako

always a work in progress...

Topanga // June 1st, 2024

On Chasing Reflections from the Eclipse // A.C.

NOTEBOOK PEOPLE: An Interview with Brian Gilchrist // Trina O’Gorman

More Stories from the Canyon and the Road via Substack // wakako