Begin Again
It is the last day of December.
The person I have been becoming all year
has prepared the torch. The matchbox, the flicker,
the passing of it. Into the next year I go,
praying for the ease that sometimes comes
from beginning again. We kid ourselves
with each new week, new month, new year.
The days mean nothing. Only the stars
and the cards can direct us. Only our inner
fires. The melancholy of Tuesday is not
Tuesday’s fault. The hope of Day One
not anything but childishness. I see now
that there is only the zero—the empty circle
of longing, and the love that smudges the line.I can’t compartmentalize my brain right now to provide any book-related lists, but I’m sending this letter anyway.
I so appreciate those of you who have recently asked me when I would send another poem newsletter. I was literally heckled yesterday morning while pumping gas: “Hey, you haven’t sent me a poem in a while!” Chris yelled, before he hopped in his car and zoomed off. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: there is nothing better than being poem-hecked on a warm winter’s morning at the gas pump.
In 2022, I…
Was gifted my own pair of ice skates & an espresso machine
Got stuck driving up my road because there was a foot of snow on it
Was given my dream shearling coat by friends + fam
Fully embraced a shopkeeper look that includes a long high-waisted skirt with a shawl over my shoulders, wrapped across my body, and then tucked in to my waistline, a la Outlander (IYKYK)
Bought myself a sexy bathing suit after assessing many Instagram ads for sexy bathing suits
Enrolled Linden in something called “Little Running Warriors” which he did not like except for the bouncy castle part (and the new sneakers part)
Enjoyed fine cheeses and pet nat in cans while chatting 120 miles per minute with Sheila (Heti) and Makenna (Goodman) on my shop porch in warm wet April and by the end of our fever dream chatfest we had somehow decided that I would officiate their joint bat mitzvah next March and it would occur on the anniversary of my own bat mitzvah
Had precious quality hours and days with family members <3 <3 <3
Grew a sunflower indoors in a pot
Struggled through many, many days without daycare
Survived so many daycare colds, some of which traveled to the adult level, some of which stayed at kid level
Began a fundraising campaign despite having 1796040 complicated feelings about asking for money
Hired a bookkeeper for our farm because I was not put here on this one good distractingly green + gorgeous earth filled with beauty-humans to reconcile things & categorize expenses (& still laughing about Lance saying, “the word bookkeeper sounds like something you would really like, but then it tricks you, because it’s about numbers!” — because yes, I would love to be The Book Keeper, yes please The Keeper of the Books, sign me up! Just not…the bookkeeper)
Was wowed, again, by poppies
Worked on my own farm with my own husband on summer Wednesdays aka heaven on our own slice of heaven (featuring herbs)
Got into flavored seltzer
Went to church because my friend Dian was sermoning (& cried)
Got to spend time with some of the babies that my faraway BFFs birthed during COVID (heartwarming” does not cut it…more like heart…roasting. Heart…exploding. Heart….fireworking)
Decided that the new shop café space is my after hours personal bar (I’m taking suggestions for names) and met up with friends there
Got COVID right before the summer solstice
Watched our backyard get torn up by excavators and then put back together and then up went a barn built by friends
Tried out many innovative ponytail styles on Linden
Worked through many emotional loose tooth moments with Linden
Chatted extremely hard (oh and also farmed) with our field crew and somehow got myself a dirt mustache by lunchtime every single time
Went out to a restaurant for the first time in years and was wowed by how much I like being alone with Misha in dim light with wines and plates of food in nice shoes
Braided a LOT of garlic
Made boldly bad jokes, spoke in strange accents, said words farcically wrong on purpose, snarfed kombucha, played the same Beyoncé and Lizzo and Taylor Swift albums over & over, shimmied behind the counter while belting out Christmas carols, made up hip-hop lyrics about winter squashes (butternut/you better not/ assume you’re hot), played bad air guitar, & did an endless number of ridiculous things at my place of work because that’s what happens when you employ one of your best friends nearly full-time + run a store that your friends shop at: you get to be you, loudly
Made Alison Roman’s potato salad recipe for all summer events (you crisp capers in browned butter, and there is lots of dill, oh, it is so good)
Bought a witch’s hat at the thrift store the day before Halloween and paired it with the broom I made in the days right before lockdown (“broom-making class with sister and BFFs” remains one of the best birthday gifts I have ever received)
Read all my middle school journals and realized that I am 100% the same person now as I was then (minus desperately pining for a boyfriend—I got one!! He’s HOT!!!)
Did not win a book prize but had many people crossing their fingers that I would win it (love you people)
Ate hummus out of a wooden beam at a party (10/10 would recommend) #sovermont
Finally found a tarot deck that speaks to me
Threw Linden a very fun and sweet birthday party which I took zero pictures of
Laughed and cried so many times, and poemed really hard after the crying, then laughed at the not-very-poetic results, then cried over something else, then appreciated all the crying becasue crying is a form of saying, “I care about this world and the people in it, I care about myself, I care about growing up and growing out of old selves, I want to still be here laughing and crying next year and the year after that, I love my whole life even the ugly parts, especially the ugly parts becasue that was when I was growing”
Ya know?!?!
So let’s burn down 2022 and light the flames of 2023.
LOVE,
Taylor Mardis Katz Honeymeadow
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Begin Again