In a few months, I’m heading back to Tassajara Zen Monastery for a few days. “Why?” I keep asking myself. “Why, why, why?!”

It is not an easy place for me to be. The first time I visited back in 2010, I couldn’t wait to leave. But, despite this, I decided to go back last year for a short hiking trip to celebrate my birthday. It had been a few years and I felt I had matured some and maybe it wasn’t as bad as I remembered…

As soon as I stepped through the gate, I knew I was in for it.

There is something about Tassajara that leaves me feeling raw and exposed. It is not a pleasant feeling. But I was buoyed by the realization that I would be outside hiking for most of my stay. In all my worry, I did not anticipate how much fun the hiking would be. Or how much I would enjoy the people. Or how fabulous my roommate would be. Or how grateful I would feel for our gentle and fearless leader in the wilderness, Steve Harper.

So. This year. Another trip. This time for poetry. The thought of which fills me with both anxiety and excitement. What will I write about? Do I still have it in me? What will my roommate be like? What effect will Tassajara have on me this year?

Ah, delicious worries...

(What I'm listening to right now: Ophelia by The Lumineers)