Both Erin and Linda are graduates of the same MFA program on which I'm about to embark: the Rainier Writing Workshop at Pacific Lutheran University. Together with Mercedes Harness and Debi Poore, they are wonderful teachers and fellow-travelers for me. We are just starting to meet up as a group and critique each other's work, and discuss other books, and I am bottomlessly grateful for it. By undertaking a low-residency MFA, I'm missing out on the intense peer-to-peer interaction of being in school full-time. Getting to interact with these wonderful poets right in the place where I happen to live is more than compensation.
On the other hand, the sun has been shining for three days straight now and I feel my spirit rising to it. And when I stayed home to write while the rest of the gang went off on one of my favorite hikes, I realized that the sense of gladness that I felt over staying home to write was greater than my chagrin at missing out.
Last week, one of the markets here in town had fresh figs for the first time this year! When I saw them, I almost teared up from all the memories of harvesting my own in the California days. I ate one as soon as I'd paid for my basket, and it was just perfect.
We had a dinner gathering that night, so I made a cream from cashews, young coconut meat, irish moss gel, xylitol and lots of vanilla powder, and bathed the figs in it.
I love their expansive secrecy, their sweet fecundity.
When you miss out on an activity in order to do something more important to you, do you feel sad or glad?