This was written in June 2004 and posted in September 2011. I read it and was almost moved to tears by the sentence beginning “Dear Jenny, I do love you…” I feel like a very different person, looking at Jenny, and being able to accept everything, everything, seeing her as worthwhile.
Rough day yesterday. A lot of fear & sense of alienation from my life. A beautiful day but I wasn’t really present to it, etc. A lot of pain about the ecological crisis, letter from Barbara Kingsolver about the animal species headed for extinction, the potential disaster of global warming — and feeling bad again about my house, so unsustainably built — It occurred to me this morning that my house is like me — a mixed bag of creativity and health and disfunction. I can love it, even tho it’s not “perfect” — I can even love its “imperfection” as I love the battered and starved baby just as she is. Can I love myself too, love my mistakes and unconsciousness? I feel a softening, tears coming. Dear Jenny, I do love you, I love your brilliances and your mistakes, your creativity and your inhibitions, your passion and your blindness — you are doing the best you can with a truly difficult set of factors.