… listening to birdsong as I hang out the laundry (the larks are back and nesting, mapping out their territories in song, so it is particularly splendid right now), the toads croaking their hearts out in the little acequia that runs through my land…
I’m packing a bag and some books and heading down to Taos to stay in Mabel Dodge Luhan’s old house. Really. I am. I can’t believe it myself, but it’s true.
… and I haven’t even started with Kim’s divine pastries—tarts and scones and cakes and pies and cobblers…
So I’ve written this small piece to you all to enlist your support in getting me down the mountain to start a thing I want DONE without the doing of it. Oh me.
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.