2025 in Brief

Just a couple things to note from last year, before we accept that time speeds up as we age and I am no spring chicken... so now the blog I started in April 2025 is being posted in April 2026! 

Apparently I'm an enneagram 7!

We volunteered to help clean up the trail entrance at the bottom of our road last spring, so now every time we drive by we can revel in our hard work. And every time I see someone parked there, I feel excited and proud.

Attending a surprise wig party for my sister's 60th was fire!

We had a nest of baby juncos hatch beside our house last year. Now when I see a junco I wonder if it's one of "our" adolescents.

Individuals aren't resilient, if resilience means to bounce back. We get scars from our wounds, trauma from our experiences, which doesn't go away unless we totally lose our memory. We're never the same. Systems maybe too. Maybe resilience doesn't mean being able to be the same ever again, but to be something with life and remnants of the previous being.

Difficulty and pain does change us in ways that can be expansive, connective, or healing. Communities that have experienced natural disasters tend to band together and form connections that serve in the long term. Many of my deepest darkest experiences have also been fodder for connection. Sharing painful experiences with someone else can mean that they are less afraid to dig in and compare notes. Because why not? Why not explore that territory to reclaim it as something I can grow from? 

This took on new meaning while watching my person lose and live without function in their right arm for 6 months (now slowly working back to 100%, but maybe not going to ever get there).

We got our cat a cat, Murphy. Who turned out to be a critical comfort during Chris's recovery. And the cats are still figuring each other out, but it's definitely made Ithaca's life more interesting.

My first visit to the zendo was magical. A small parking lot, a gravel path into the woods, an arch, moss-lined winding walk, a solid peaceful wooden building next to a pond, stone floor, dripping rain. And it remains so each time I return.

They're not kidding about altitude. Trying to hike at 12,000 feet in Durango made me think I was dying.

Helping your friend's kid with their college essay is a (wonderful, heart-warming) trip. 

The older I get, the more I just want to go back to the places I've been before. 

Staying home for Thanksgiving in new pjs is kind of great. Especially when you've had a busy year.

I got C a fancy set of knives for Christmas, and he loved it even more than I hoped he would. Phew! It's good when you really know your person! 

The Herbal Astrology Oracle is magic. I will take no further questions, but I will order you a deck if you want!