The trip was filled with ghosts and they or the land, or both, gripped my soul on this sunny New Mexico day when Kim and I journeyed back in time and experienced the conceived utopia of another era and a sense of the lives lived within it, in old houses and on ancient land.
I want to enlist your help: I’d like you to witness my journey back to health. Why, you might be asking, should I give a whit about that? But hear me out.
I recognized the important shift: I am taking care of myself! The extra bits that aren’t absolutely necessary–the things I’d supposed took too much time or money, or both, the things I was not worthy of, I was doing for myself in the simple act of hanging my sheets out to dry.
Up here in the mountains of northern New Mexico, in an ancient village that has gone through more than its share of hardships, whose suffering would put mine to shame, two friends spent a day celebrating what it is to live.
And why should this matter to you? Why am I writing this to you? Because I think we are universal and the struggles I fight are the same as those you do. Because we are human. And there is no escaping it, my friends. We are in this together and whatever any one of us can do to help with that, matters.
I don’t want to grow old before my time and I fear I may have during these last 2 ½ years of shingles… I choose strength. I choose to stay strong, to get strong again—one day at a time, one foot in front of the other. I can already feel a glimmer of my old self returning and I’m thrilled.
I know that in much of the country you’ve had more snow this winter than you can bear. But here in New Mexico we’ve been starved for it. We need snow each winter like a flower needs the sun and, finally, we’ve been getting it.