You know that hypothetical game where you imagine you are stranded on a desert island with only a limited number of books or records and you have to name which you would choose? It feels like we are living this out in real time over here. It would make the most fascinating profile to document what we are carrying with us this summer. I keep thinking about doing it, for real, but it feels almost too revealing. For today maybe it's enough to tell you there are the words of @mayastein telling me how to start over. (She would be happy to know: also a typewriter.) Playlists from friends organized by mood: Fun, Mellow, and "not all melancholy but I tried". One hardcover memoir by @swirlygirl18. Some letters and notes in familiar hands. Cameras and lenses we set in our view but seldom lift. Two DVDs sitting unplayed on a side table, both by Miyazaki. (Another with a BBC series that has yet to be found in any of the bags.) I guess the point is, I'm reading Maya's How We Are Not Alone and noticing how we know the medicine we'll need on far-off days and in far-off lands, even before the last suitcase is zipped closed. Things like: permission and reassurance, understanding and even patience for #thefarawayseason. Reminders of the way we are accompanied, and of who we might be again, on the other side.