seven winters

dear friend,

this week we received a winter's worth of snow in one day. the shovelling was epic. i should know. i stayed inside cooking for nearly all of it (but i did snowshoe the path to the outhouse).

one lil' iris leaf still standing.

timber's dear leap path before the shovels came out.

it is drip dripping away now. such a mild winter. 

this january marks the beginning of our seventh winter here. thinking about the doors that have closed and the doors that have opened in my life since coming to this valley with samwell. we were brought here by vision and dream. some of which has manifested and some of which has not. i suspect that's how it always is but at 28, i thought i could make it all happen. i really did. perhaps this is what's meant by "the frivolity of the young." 

have the idea that i'm more likely to dwell on the closed doors than savour the opened ones. certainly there have and will continue to be much tears in this little storm of life called kate. it's also true that i love my work, i am so grateful for my marriage it's an ache inside, and i can feel my heart breaking/melting/bruising/blossoming very, very often. so, who's to say? 

i think a lot about pema chodron: life is hard. and you can either go to sleep or wake up.  

doing my best, even when that looks like movies, pajamas, and reading about the royal family,

k.