As I sit here wondering, “What would be a good title for this essay?” I remind myself of what I have told students more than a thousand times….just write. Titles are simply the frosting on the cake. So here I am – my thoughts might not strike you as important. On the other hand, perhaps this is exactly what you have been feeling but can’t articulate it. If so, this is for you.

I realized, going back to school this year that although I love what I do, the entirety of all that I am suddenly responsible for nine months of the year is rather daunting. For those twelve weeks of summer I am responsible for only what book shall I read next, what plant will I fuss over, what square of beach is best and all those rides through the countryside that are so fulfilling for me. It’s a relaxed life filled with farm stands, hidden gems, the perfect rock. It’s warm nights and the smell of fresh grass in the air – or even better – the cool, intoxicating breezes coming from the Maine coastline. It’s a road yet explored, an Osprey’s nest, and an ice cold thermos of ice tea. Come September, I turn the corner and reenter six day work weeks, responsibilities, chores, must do’s and deadlines.

I thought, funny enough, that over my lifetime if I worked hard enough, studied long enough, molded myself into a scholar and did above and beyond what was asked of me that life would get easier. I would climb pay scales and life would get easier. Here I am, at 66 still treading water and definitely barely keeping up with rising costs. According to a recent article I read, I am not even making the median income Americans should be making……as I contemplate taking on a third job. It was with sudden clarity that the sum of my decisions in life …whether for the right reasons or not, have most certainly not panned out as I fantasized they would. Let that sink in for a moment I thought. No wonder I’m still on anti-depressants was my next thought. As my reality came into focus I had to admit that I will be working long after most folks retire. I may never own a home or have a dog or a flower garden of my own. I may never be brave enough to entertain the thought of falling in love again, as the damage from my one and only runs just too deep. I know I might not survive should I hurt again. I might not even get to Italy which has always been my dream. Reality is truly a bitch.

As depressing as it sounds, at my soul I still retain a smidge of optimism and that is the well I decided to dip from. If, in those summer days I can find such a deep well of peace and joy, perhaps it needs to be replicated throughout these fall and winter months in little ways which turn into big, ginormous bits of happiness. And so it is that for my first dip into refilling my soul I woke up and drove to Appleton, Maine to see a dahlia. Not just one, but hundreds of dahlias. It was a perfect early fall/late summer day with clouds roiling in preparation for a tropical storm. As my new friends showed me each variety, I could feel my inner coil slowly unwind as really….anyone who can’t appreciate what nature can do is beyond me. It was two hours of pure, unadulterated joy. As I left with a large bouquet of flowers to bring home, I meandered down country roads I had never traveled, and made one last stop at Morse’s Sauerkraut.

Morse’s is one of the most fascinating European markets/delis I’ve visited. I took my time pouring over imported jams, jellies, and all sorts of confections in languages I did not understand. I tried a sample of their pickles and it was the perfect blend of sour/crisp/spice that pickles should have and a big jar came home. My wild purchase was a loaf of such gastronomic delight that even without trying it I knew it would no doubt be the best pastry I had ever eaten. Layers upon layers of brioche dough with sugar and cinnamon. It looked like the rings of a tree when I sliced it. I had given up sweets/sugar for the past 6 months and once it hit my lips my eyes rolled in my head and it brought back such memories of baking with my Mom and Nana. I promptly sliced it, wrapped the individual slices as tight as a mummy, and froze them. I figure that no one can ever truly have a no good, dirty, miserable day if they only knew a slice of this would be waiting for them to have with a cup of tea.

Life is hard and even an optimist like myself sometimes has to face the hard realities that come as I get older and life just keeps marching on….sometimes leaving most of us wondering just where is that rainbow Maya Angelo promised in her writings of storm clouds and better days. Once I came to the obvious conclusion that happiness, joy, contentment, and peacefulness is not elusive, I changed my thinking of wishing life were different and found my own version of glimmers…..that popular word characterizing those moments when you take a step back and know that things like dahlias, apple orchards, country roads, and small adventures are what we should be prioritizing. I know I am, and every so often until next summer rolls around I intend to stop, step away from all the should do’s and must do’s of life and with a tank of gas be an adventurer and take it all in.

Ciao! Laurie