in hope

My dear Ruthi,

I’ve gone through the day pondering joy through the lens of your questions.

It had me considering the audacity of laying out feelings on a wheel. The arrogance of universally identifying core emotions and our easy acceptance of landing on any set number or combination.

All the boxes and gradients and ideals and certainty.
I’ve had to give my head a shake numerous times.

What do I know? What do I feel?
A whole lot. A whole little.
A whole little? A whole lot?

I believe in complexity.
And incomprehensibility.
I believe in hope.
I believe it is always worth it
for one more…

Joy in sadness? For me, yes.

Joy and love
as prerequisites?

But, I think joy makes love so much more accessible. More inevitable.
At least, in my experience.

But, I wonder if sadness makes love so much more spacious. More invincible.
A sad girl can hope. Can’t she?

A joyous girl can accept. That’s the hypothesis, anyways.

Joy in red and green.

Sky and grass. Barns barns and more barns. And this barn. Where my family has bought maple syrup for over 60 years. Very dark. Strong flavour. Joy in boldness.

And maple sugar very well-priced, and more grainy than creamy, just how I like it. To melt on the tongue. Joy in sweetness.

And in unexpected gifts of care and thought and grace. Hand-ground flour. Spelt and kamut. So yummy. So soul-nourishing. And the joy in surprise of unexpected leaves. Like a separate gift. To speak to being seen and known. The extra touches. The shared artist’s heart. Joy in connectedness.

And in light confetti. A momentary celebration, without the cleanup. Joy in playfulness.

And in a good night’s sleep. May we both have one.

With love,



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