Thank you

Today I haven't anything topical to report, so I'd just like to use today's allotment of your attention to thank you for your support and kind comments on my post discussing how I moved on after leaving an abusive spouse. I have not had to delete any comments, and I only received one indication via email that I had made anyone uncomfortable, but even this discomfort was tempered with a general message of encouragement.

The main question I got from this emailer was, why would you choose to reveal so much about your personal life?

My immediate internal reaction was, had I not been revealing a great deal about my personal life already? I've explicitly mentioned a breakup, hinted at a new relationship, speculated on the afterlife of my pet rabbit, and shown you my underwear. Twice.

I am *very* touched that I have attracted a handful of loyal readers whom I do not know in the meat world, and, moreover, that most of you/them are women. Clearly you aren't stalkers with a sexual interest; you just think I'm cool and interesting. That being the case, I thought it would be encouraging to show that cool, interesting people who have kickass lives also have shit happen to them. The thing is, being cool and interesting and kickass is precisely what helps people to recover from said shit.

One of my favorite writers, Heather Lende, wrote a light, touching, and unabashedly sentimental memoir about recovering from literally being run over by a truck. In it, she describes how the doctors were amazed at how well she healed and regained almost full mobility, despite the much more likely outcome of death or permanent paralysis. The doctors attributed her astonishing recovery to her having been in excellent overall health before the accident. Her healing is also aided by her increasing activity level as soon as it is safe to do so, and eventually returning to running, hiking, biking, and hunting.

So, too, do we strengthen ourselves against and recover from emotional blows by maintaining an active life that engages us with the full breadth of the world. Maybe my way doesn't work for everyone, but I find that I don't need to soothe all of my pains away for all of my scars to heal. Trees deal with their scars just fine, by growing a protective layer over them and then effectively shrugging and moving on, continuing to grow as strong, healthy trees. I find that I do best after a crisis if I accept some pain and just get up and get on with life, and let time do the rest.

Finally, I must say that while it was good to get that post down and those thoughts off my chest, it didn't feel so personal to me. Maybe because the years have, indeed, soothed over the wounds, and I wouldn't even have thought of it at all if it hadn't been for my approaching birthday and my annual exercise. Of my recent posts, I sincerely think I've bared the most of my soul in this one. I share what I consider to be an unusually intimate bond with my dogs, and it felt a little... private, I guess, to show the one of me spooning Autumn. But no-one seemed to notice (or comment on) that peek at vulnerability.

I've been blogging now for four years, and although I am still rarely short of material, the going theme of, "I'm a California girl adjusting to Alaska and learning all of these cool new things!" doesn't work any more as I've become integrated into the Alaskan life and no longer have an eye for what is and isn't novelty. So the focus of this blog may well drift a bit, and I thank you all for staying with it.

I already live a life surrounded by unearned blessings, and this blog has definitely added to it.