Surprisingly happy to be here. When we left Saskatoon (4 weeks ago tomorrow), I was sad. And angry to have to leave. I was anticipating much loneliness and no joy.
It turns out though that joy has followed us. I am lonely (although quite honestly, I hardly have time in the day to think at all, so I don’t exactly spend my time moping around the house, feeling pitiful). I don’t have friends to speak of, and every time I meet someone new, I can’t help but feel that they just aren’t the person I’m looking for. Ironically, I’ve found that the more one needs/wants friends, the harder it is to make them, because it is difficult to just relax into any relationship when your mind is spinning “Do we have anything in common? Is it enough? Do they spank their kids? Could we have a real conversation about life and find a connection on some deep level that could lead to a friendship? etc etc ad nauseum. ”
I have always been a kindred spirit sort of gal. When I meet someone for the first time, I usually know within about 15 minutes of meeting them whether or not we will be close friends. My inner Anne of Green Gables comes soaring out when I meet that person that I can be true friends with, the one I can get drunk with on the best of Marilla’s rasberry cordial, the one I can dye my hair green with and with whom I can stay up sharing secrets about boys late into the night. Since becoming a mother, my instinct is to seek out people who are gentle and generous of heart with their children and mine, instead of people to talk boys with. Very occasionally, I find someone with whom I can share both parenting and life, and then my heart rejoices with the joy of true friendship.
I haven’t found that here. I haven’t even found someone to have coffee with. BUT BUT BUT, we are okay. I am okay.
The beauty of this place sustains us for now. It sustains me, for now, to take the littles to the forest and find witch’s beard and moss, bark, decomposing logs and unexploded paintballs. It sustains me to walk through the mystical little back alley with forest on one side and weather greyed, mossy fences and sheds on the other. It sustains me to sit under the birch trees in our back yard, and to swim at the pool on a Sunday afternoon with only 5 other families (and free use of the pool’s lifejackets!). It sustains me to drive 20 minutes to Bear Lake, where the kids can swim in a small lake that is completely surrounded by pine trees, and that feels like a secret hide-away.
It sustains me to be with my family. For now, it is enough.
It is abundant.