reconciling things

“Allow it all to happen: beauty and terror…” Rilke

One time, a few years ago, I went to this awful lecture with friends called “Finding Joy In March In Maine.” Sounds good, right? It wasn’t.

It was terrible and kind of depressing actually and laced with inaccuracies and near heresies. So, my friend leaned forward and whispered “Check your phone” into my ear. She had sent me a text that read, “If you want to get out of here as much as we do, pretend this is an emergency text and make for the door. We’ll follow.”

And so we got the heck out of dodge. Found ourselves a table at a pub. Ate nachos and drank beer and found our joy in March in Maine the way real people do.

This year I didn’t have trouble finding joy in March in Maine. Yes, the weather can be dreary. And it is also true that the divorce was final this month, which came with its own set of feels that had to be dealt with or resolved at the bottom of a tub of ice cream. (Dairy-free, of course, because still healing my gut…)

But also there was grace. And laughter. And children who got muddy and into scrapes. And friends who pressed in. And true love. And cuddles. And warmer temps.

I’m here for it, y’all. I’m here for all of it.

Made a crapton (that is an official measurement) of Kombucha for Magdalen College Sophomore Dinner
Hiked with these fellas, but first chicken curry cooked in a parking lot and eaten out of the pot
A short hike with a great view, but with even better friends
My wood cook stove got a chimney after 5 years of sitting sad and idle. I was so excited I kissed it and cried. And then made a fire and coffee. Thank you, Isaac, for this incredible gift.
Hiked Sargent in Acadia with these adventurers. It was ICEY and COLD and HILARIOUS and FUN!
At the summit we made Moroccan Chicken with Quinoa and extra lemon! (Yes, we cooked a full meal at the summit….because we can, that’s why.)
Followed by dark chocolate coconut fondue. Hiking food anyone?
It was St. Joseph’s Feasts Day! (Read In The Footsteps of St. Joseph)
I got to speak at the Maine Catholics Women Conference. My bio next to these powerhouse ladies literally made me laugh until I cried. It reminded me of that Propaganda song, “There’s no plaques on my wall, ‘cept the influence I had on those with plaques on they wall, It could leave a man salty like ‘when it finna be my turn?’”
Same day: my house got more siding. And so I had to cuddle it. (Dang, I have good friends.)
I shot a British Enfield and hit the target at about 110 yards. So there’s that.
It was this handsome gent’s birthday.
Stations of the Cross
My love came home for the weekend. My oldest son and my youngest son. This makes my heart melt.
The Rite of the Lamp on Spy Wednesday. It is a rite of healing. And it is so breathtakingly beautiful. I could do nothing but breath it in deeply and pray to hang onto that grace a moment longer than I usually can.
Also, it’s mud season.

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