Author Archives: dainsworth

I would like to know the deep of the island winter. I would like to see the frost cold stars unyielding to the light of the land, the wild boughs of blood-red bittersweet caught in the fury of verglas. I would like to see the coruscating mustard of the goldenrod dim, the whorled aster and jewelweed laid to rest. But it is not my time.

My earliest memories used to be close to me, the jumble of them kept around like a lucky coin I could touch when I needed to know the truth of things. But then my head became full of more important things, like keeping another human alive or not ending up in the news for sayingContinue reading “13. Bended Knee”

As a teenager, I loved to sleep in on Saturday mornings. Invariably, I would be woken by the loud and disjointed sounds of my mother in the kitchen, by her laughter as she spoke on the phone, by drawers closing, and cupboards slamming, and pans banging. I. Hated. It. I would lie in bed fumingContinue reading “12. Waffles”

Ok… Maine is beautiful. I’m not sure why I’ve never traveled here before, but I will definitely travel here again. I was a bit of a mess in the days leading up to my departure. There were so many moving pieces to coordinate. But mostly, it was the idea of leaving my girl for fourContinue reading “11. Monhegan Island”

“Healing does not mean forgiveness either, though it is a result of it. Healing is knowing our woundedness; it is developing an intimacy with the ways in which we suffer.” -Lama Rod Owens I always believed that forgiveness was the first step toward healing. I was wrong. When we were young, we were made toContinue reading “10. Healing”

Heart. One word. An organ expanding and contracting beneath 24 ribs. Muscle, fiber, flesh. The feeling place.   i carry your heart with me When my daughter was born, that organ tasked with the vital role of maintaining life exploded into a thousand pieces. And yet, I did not die. Or perhaps I did, because everyContinue reading “9. Heart”

Guys. I am going to Monhegan Island. I heard back from the loveliest of people yesterday, a kindred spirit for sure. Her name is Melanie and, this year, she opened a sweet little spot on Monhegan Island called The Cracked Mug. She named one of the beautiful seaside rooms after he son Alexander. A friendContinue reading “8. It’s Happening”

I’m always reticent to talk about my personal faith, mostly because my past experiences have led me to some deep skepticism, which I generally assume others share, but also because it feels deeply and immensely private. Most of the time I’m still trying to figure it out for myself. But, as this is the spaceContinue reading “7. Faith”

I was seven when my mom bought me my first journal and I discovered what it felt like to put pen to paper. To see one’s innermost thoughts take tangible shape and form seemed a sort of magic, like spinning gold out of air. To create something where nothing once existed surely must be theContinue reading “6. The Answer”

What is it that you want to know? And if I answer, will you turn away? To be seen is fascinatingly frightening. Who can bear up under such a thing? Still, I have carried this inside of me for so long. It has carved pieces out of my soul, like water shaping stone. What haveContinue reading “5. The Question”