Doing Hard Things...

Waking up this morning on this beautiful island in Harpswell, Maine the air is sweet, thick, palpable.

The sun shimmering through the foggy leftovers of last nights heavy cloud covering has left a haziness over the wet grass and the birds were ecstatic in the trees.

I can smell the wild strawberries, the bursting lilacs from the front of the yard and the light salt of mid tide. It feels like a whisper from the earth and an assurance for my heart that all will be well.

The last six weeks I have gotten up so much earlier with the puppy then I usually would. 
Initially it was grudgingly, but it has become less so with each week that has passed. 
Witnessing the shift into spring with all her fickle glory has been a unexpected blessing. From the frozen ground, spring snow and ice to the first pips of every blade of grass, every flower, each returning perennial and every bud and leaf on the trees. I've been able to watch and connect with everything that surrounds our little haven on the hill here and I feel really grateful for that now. This pandemic has run parallel to this very opposite experience for me and has brought with it a beautiful distraction and groundedness.


The first month was tough, I admit I was reading the fine print of this little fur balls contract from the breeder wondering if I could return her and not be a total loser for doing so.. but then another day would pass, and another bird would sing a morning song so loud that you forgot you only slept four hours and aren't bleeding anymore from the razor teeth attached to the prancing demon at the other end of the leash.
God help me she is too cute!!

I think now, dear Willow and I have figured a few things out in this time, while she sleeps behind my chair this morning as I write. Our greatest lessons sometimes are taught to us in the midst of our struggles, and if I am patient those "ah ha" moments come in a quiet reveal when I least expect them.

Maybe mine came today. My lesson that I too can do hard things, a day at a time over the long term and emerge awake and alive with new life in the end of it. Today I felt encouraging to receive it, delivered in the fog and illuminated by the sun that made its way through the wake in the trees.


Smiling now in my heart now as we trudge through the routine of our morning, our new normal, together.

Willow trots along, does all her business and we both smell the sweetness and the hope of the new day, she smiles looking right back at me knowingly... we'll keep each other, and all will be well.

Have a good day peeps!!

Peace Always,
Denice & Willow Grace