The potato.
I am writing my first letter to you from Substack, even though there is a perfectly cooked baked potato waiting for me in the oven. Crispy skin pre-anointed with olive oil and salt. Soft crumbly middle, poised to receive butter like a benediction. I’m definitely hungry. So why am I postponing it?
The dog.
Aiko (Japanese for beloved) is snuffling around in a blanket on the floor. I just spent a few minutes hiding crumbled peanut-butter treats inside, and she is poking her head into the folds, pulling at the corners, and having a whale of a time.
Treats for everyone.
I am writing and not eating because I love to write, and I wanted to write to you first. Writing is like peanut butter treats for me. It helps me make sense of this funny old life and it connects me to, well, everything. It reminds me of how much I receive. It helps me to feel beloved, just as I am.
I also hope that you will find treats for yourself as you snuffle around my Substack. Moments of recognition and permission. Little blooms of humour or happiness. Maybe the odd tear. If I’m very lucky, it’ll help you feel like you belong. Like you are trying your best after all. Like you are amazing.
The deal.
I’m not sure how often I’ll write or exactly what I’ll be writing about. There will be stories about the temple, good vegan cake, my failings, Stuff I Learn, wrens and peonies… that kinda thing. You can stick around for a while, or not. Sound okay?
Let’s go!
I am VERY much looking forward to it. And now, I am going to re-fill the blanket for my whiny dog (she’s in charge) and eat a baked potato. Hurray!
Go gently,
Love, Satya <3