I always feel strange when I’m consistently happy for an extended amount of time. That’s probably not a normal way to live, to be suspicious of your own happiness. I distinctly remember feeling a similar way and then writing a similar post last January. January 27th, to be exact. It was a post about financial security and being in love and appreciating Providence finally and feeling content in my job. I was laid off on January 31st. Just three days after writing it. For the next four months, I found myself stripped of all those things I had worked so hard for, all those things I had just thanked the world for. I collected unemployment, resented James, hated the city I felt trapped in and nothing felt right. It was a very long spring. I felt like I was being punished.
One time, or maybe seventeen times, James said, you won’t let us be happy. I didn’t know what he meant. I do now. I have always been scared of too much happiness, scared of feeling too good, because the more you have, the more you have to lose. I would start fights when we were too happy, so that I wouldn’t get to used to the idea of being happy. So that happiness would never have a hold on me and in return, I’d never have too good a hold on happiness. That’s really the saddest thing I’ve ever admitted.
This is my open letter to the universe, in which to say, I’m accepting this happiness and I hope you return the favor. I’m sorry for all those years of neglect.
What started out as send us some recipes and photos and we’ll let you know how we feel has evolved into a bi-monthly recipe creating whirlwind of can I make this deadline and what am I going to make slash this is the coolest thing ever job!
SweatRX focuses on Primal/Paleo nutrition and CrossFit-based workouts. Yesterday, I submitted my fifth contribution, which includes a two page recipe spread: one entree, one dessert and a brief nutritional explanation. You can subscribe for the magazine here. If you’re not convinced, here’s a peek at the recipes I created for the March/April issue:
Now someone come over and eat those muffins. #donteatthesugarjennadonteatthesugar
The children noticed the drop in temperature as they stepped into a shadow of a barn or a tree. Following the sun with their eyes and then their feet, until warmth surrounded them. They smiled when the sun hit their faces, ran to their mothers, or to the lake, laughing or frowning, but lucky either way, lucky to have the option. I wondered if it could be that easy. If we, as parents, and caretakers, could simply see light from darkness, follow it with our eyes and our feet, and soon be warm and content again. But I knew it wouldn’t. I knew in real life, the simple step from dark to light, is oceans wide and mountains high. The older we get, the bigger the leap becomes. I wondered how long it would take this time.
I had the pleasure of photographing two very beautiful babies on Saturday morning. Under a cold sun, I marveled as their innocence ran parallel with the overwhelming grief that has enveloped this country.
The irony didn’t escape me: both of these children come from grieving families; two families who have said goodbye to children; two mothers who have had their hearts broken in unimaginable ways.
It’s not possible, not today, and not tomorrow, for the families of Newtown to process their new reality. The grief in those homes is unfathomable. But on a hill lined with trees, I had to remind myself that new life always comes, hearts somehow find ways to heal, and children are never, ever forgotten.
In Loving Memory
Charlotte - Daniel - Rachel - Olivia - Josephine - Ana - Dylan -Dawn - Madeleine- Catherine - Chase - Jesse - James - Grace - Anne - Emilie - Jack - Noah - Caroline- Jessica - Avielle - Lauren - Mary -Victoria - Benjamin - Allison