Stuffed sacks

Aloha! I’m in Maine! I usually don’t write posts that are entirely about myself and my experiences but today I felt like it was necessary.  I’m living in a cabin. By water. With my doggo.

Two years ago, there was a point in time on my road trip where I knew I would live in Maine, just didn’t know when or how it would come about.  

The time before I headed out was so rich, yet so difficult.  My body was exhausted from human exposure as well as intensity of emotions.  Coordinating with friends to hug them goodbye is tiring. Emotionally so. Yet, I felt so energized by the height of love in this city.  I came to Grand Rapids not knowing a soul and now know more people there than I do in Minneapolis--where I grew up. And these people have been complete warriors for me. Entirely vulnerable, totally selfless. 

Community is one of my favorite things. It is so whole. Life-giving. Makes my throat get all squeezy and achy from trying to hold my tears in; gratitude makes me weep like a baby more than most things. What blessings.  

I have a duffle bag that I fit all my clothes into. One of those big Outback ones that I could most likely nestle into if I curled my body real tight. I felt like that sack was stuffed full of all my memories. All my laughs, my cries, heartaches, confusions. All my people. Goodness, if I could stuff them all into that sack I wouldn’t miss it. But I realize that people are so much more than memories. The people that truly impact you, that see you, stay forever as a part of love that grew you. In Ghana, I said that I would never not love you, not know you, even knowing that I might never see you again; what a way to love completely.

Fearless love is actually rather scary. It creates this idea that love is all that matters; the conquerer of all things. A trust that your heart will be okay on the other side of some form of mad love. And it always is.