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Brigitte Rabie's avatar

When you had the moment on the ferry and then pointed back to the mantra to flip it on its head "I did not sell this house today." it brought me back to my last Saturday. I was also in the midst of a long list of to-do's. Dropping off child number three for a Girl Scout Journey after I had dropped off child one and child two at their respective Saturday soccer games. I was worried that I would have to stay there and had been mentally preparing myself to give a little spiel about how she's 16 and certainly old enough to spend a few hours without my supervision on a local organic farm. My intention was to kind of rush back so I could watch one of the games because I was feeling a little guilty for missing the previous two, especially since I was the "team manager" for one and really felt like I was dropping the ball. So me and my daughter walk up to the table where all visitors are being greeted and guess what - It was cancelled. Not enough registrants. So we're standing there, both of us feeling a mix of relief and frustration. We did, after all, spend the morning (all of us left the house at 8 am) reading over the list of what to bring and printing out girl scout permission slip forms and emergency medical forms and blah blah blah. But then just a little horizon opened up and there we were on a beautiful fall morning at this farm that just opens up to the public for a few hours on Saturday. There was a stall selling hot tea and coffee and pastries so we immediately indulged. Ten minutes later we were sitting under this gorgeous oak tree listening to a lone guitar player strumming "Let it Be" and I'm watching geese fly over the fields in front of me trying my hardest not to sob too openly because I'm just so grateful to have a moment where there are not expectations, nothing to check off a list. Like many of us, I know I can power through and I'll get it done somehow. But there's nothing like those moments we can't control to help us see the world beyond the blinders and get some nourishment for those deeper parts of our selves.

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Ellen's avatar

I live on a different island in Puget Sound, and the community I have found here means I will never leave. Even though it is November here and between the rain and the dark, dreary.

Interactions like the one you had on the ferry are gifts. Here’s a memorable one I had recently: A couple of weeks ago I was on my way out to draw in a clear cut, and sitting in my car on a dirt road in the middle of this epic devastated space wrapping up a long chat with my best friend. A guy hiked out, fiddled in the pickup truck across the way, and then headed back, but paused by my car in the way of someone wanting to ask a question. I rolled down my window and said hi, and he went on to explain that he had shot a deer and was bringing it back to his truck, but could wait if it was uncomfortable for me. I told him it was fine, and thanked him for being so thoughtful.

Friend and I continue chatting, and a few minutes later, he returns with the deer on a little cart thing. I say bye to my friend, and gather up my drawing stuff and chair, and notice he’s kinda paused. So I ask if he needs help. Turns out he does because he hadn’t really considered the height of the truck and a recent back injury, so together we heave the deer into his truck. It was weird and also great, as we had chance to bridge a bunch of divides in that moment, and it’s been giving me hope for the future ever since.

You should definitely join the volunteer fire department. And maybe then become an EMT!

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