Reckoning

So over the last few days, I've been writing a blog in my head about my struggles - one about how we can feel a little lost here sometimes in our mission, about how Jay is burnt out on his job - on the futility of the institution in its current form - but is chained to it for the health insurance; how we want to be working for ourselves in every sense of the word, but how getting a good night's sleep trumps all right now, even pursuing our dreams; how having a rambunctious one-year-old makes projects stretch lazily over months and months; how my geldings look like a couple of hefty Jenny Craig weight loss program rejects who are cottoning a little too kindly to the job title of Pasture Ornament.

I was going to write about learning hard things while living communally, and how sharing my life so intimately with more people has made me aware of some of the ways in which I need to grow (and grow up); how I'm having a hard time connecting with other moms around here and despite the stars and the trees and the soothing quiet I feel isolated sometimes; how life or death can be determined by nothing more than the thin reed of a choice, and how heavy it is to have to make that kind of choice for another warm, breathing being, especially one I hold dear.

But sitting in the hot tub alone tonight, bathed in the glow of a silver-eyed moon, all I could feel was overwhelming humility and above all gratitude, for this place, for my people here, for a beautiful opportunity.