RENASCENSE

Wow. August is winding up to whirl and swirl in a tropical wind and rain as Irene comes up the eastern seaboard to remind us all again just who is boss. When you give yourself to the garden, it's quite clear how small and feeble the will can be when pitted against the Will of Mother Nature but oh how powerful is the will that works with nature and how rich is the harvest. August brings the celebration of our wedding anniversary and this year marks the completion of 28 years together. For a person with commitment-o-phobia...thats not too shabby. This is my second marriage, and Stephen's too. My first wedding was a June affair with a catered reception and lots of yellow and orange flowers...my favorite and colors of the sun. The rightness of the wedding did absolutely nothing to change the wrongness of the coupling, and when my second chance rolled around a tiny breakfast ceremony in my parent's garden followed by a potluck bash at a friend's home was a much more harmonious environment for our vows. Funny...I was certain and willfull about the first event and scared silly for the second. My fear was the fear of repeating my stupidity. I was gun shy and where I was blissfully ignorant for the first event...I was all too aware of my talent for self deception for my second wedding and consequently, fearful from a lack of trust in myself. As I look back now, I appreciate more, my choice of reading for the service. I chose to read an Inuit prayer..."The great sea has sent me adrift...it moves me as the weeds in a great river...Earth and the great weather move me, have carried me away and move my inward parts with joy." At the time, I didn't totally understand why I chose that one particular verse to read any more than I could determine whether or not our marriage would succeed. I knew only that it was the perfect description of how I felt moved by my love for Stephen. We chose to go to the sea for our anniversary this year and stay in a B and B farm near Popham Beach. Stephen called it a honeymoon...and it was actually. It was relaxing, refreshing and nourishing to spend time alone together by the ocean and especially fun because we were allowed to bring Miss Sadie Hopkins, our puppy nearing 1 year old, with us. Her first trip to the beach was hilarious...comical and amusing as she had her first experience with waves and sand and revelling in the rolling around on dead crabs. As usual, though...the highest moments of our getaway were the ones that weren't planned. The pinnacle was a drive up the auto road of Mt Battie in Camden. I have written since the age of 12...mostly poetry until I moved to Maine. My poet mentor was Edna St. Vincent Millay, along with Emily Dickenson and May Sarton. I was given a biography of Vincent by the Unitarian Church in Salem on Children's Sunday...it was called Restless Spirit, and I ate it up. In fact I read it multiple times. The photo here is a picture taken from the spot where Edna St. Vincent Millay, lay down to watch the sky and open her heart to Infinity as she wrote about her mystical moment in the poem entitled "Renascence". She was experiencing a rebirthing and as I gazed out to the far horizon over Penobscott Bay after spending 2 days at the ocean, I was moved by the infinite wisdom of the words I read at my wedding. I'm glad I took the plunge. Even though I was reticent and fearful, hesitant and maybe even ambivalent, I am aware now and so much more tolerant of not knowing. Getting married...having children...writing...and making a garden...they all have something in common. They are all leaps of faith. No guarantees...no outcome that is right or wrong...just what YOU make of it...me and the Great Weather. No. It didn't all go as I wanted. It didn't all go as I planned and it certainly didn't happen as I expected. But somehow the dance I did with Stephen and the Great Weather for 28 years...well it worked out. It has nourished and sustained me as any garden and I am hugely grateful. Leaving space for the unknown...it's a tradition in lots of tribal arts to leave a place unfinished so the spirit can enter and the creation can have a soul. Funnily enough, I resisted the drive to the top of Mt. Battie because it seemed like too much driving for the dog. Resistance isn't my most creative urge, but it is part of myself that I need to get a grip on at long last. I'm amazed that so many moments of my life that I become resistant and stiff towards...well they become some of my finest moments. This year I happily submit to renascence...to the unknown, to infinity and beyond...let the great sea send me adrift. Here's hoping Irene's wallop is just a dollop.