I've been seeing Mary Oliver's book Upstream everywhere.
And by "everywhere" I mean on my lit-heavy social media feed, haha! And so last night we met up with some pals in Woodstock--and I simply cannot go to Woodstock without stopping at The Golden Notebook-- so we popped into the bookstore and I picked up a copy for the Inn's library.
Like everyone, I AM IN LOVE.
I read Steven this paragraph aloud last night before we went to bed from the end of the first chapter:
Sometimes the desire to be lost again, as long ago, comes over me like a vapor. With growth into adulthood, responsibilities claimed me, so many heavy coats. I didn't choose them, I don't fault them, but it took time to reject them. Now in the spring I kneel, I put my face into the packets of violets, the dampness, the freshness, the sense of ever-ness. Something is wrong, I know it, if I don't keep my attention on eternity. May I be the tiniest nail in the house of the universe, tiny but useful. May I stay forever in the stream.
Isn't that just... so right?