When despair grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
— Wendell Berry, The Peace of Wild Things
So here you go: the year 2020, the year of the pandemic, of neighborhood walks and outdoor picnics with friends, of Zoom Christmas and birthdays and just about everything else, of working from home and getting all the cat cuddles, of reading books for fun again and rewatching Avatar the Last Airbender three times and creating elaborate escape-room-style scavenger hunts for Ryan, of love and grace and resilience, despite it all being too much.
Read MoreThis is my fiancé's favorite story to tell anytime anyone brings up surprises: I ruined our one year anniversary with my nosiness. I'm not the type of person who you get away with surprising. I was a spy in another life and love to snoop. Furthermore, surprises mean I am not in control, and I am a self-confessed control freak. So, when Ryan made the mistake of telling me he was planning a big surprise for our anniversary last year, what did I do? I couldn't be patient and not know what to expect, so I looked at his phone and ruined the whole surprise. (Sorry, babe) In my defense, I did feel really bad about it and told him immediately afterwards.
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