A Note From Last Spring
I was flipping through an old notebook and found this entry - written in March 2025 (10 months ago). I never sent this letter out through Mabon House, but felt like it was worth sharing now, almost a year later. I hope you enjoy it.
Hello friends,
I hope this finds you well and safe. Spring (2025) arrived early this year in Western Maine. Today it’s in the 40s and 50s with full sun, and it feels absolutely luxurious after the cold of January and February. I took a break from studying to go outside for a bit—picking up fallen branches for next season’s kindling, surveying my lower garden hillside. It’s covered in a thick layer of brown leaves, still glossy with ice. Another week of sunshine and they’ll be ready to rake up, making room for this year’s grasses and flowers.
Even with the beautiful weather, there’s no denying that early spring in Maine is not pretty. Half‑melted snow, blackened by dirt and wood ash, clings to the ground. Snowbanks look tired and worn down. Piles of wood ash—hastily dumped during the coldest parts of winter and quickly covered by snow—reemerge, a reminder of how desperate those nights were to stay warm. A tiny river runs down my driveway as the snow melts, carrying wood ash, dirt, and the flotsam and jetsam of last year’s gardens.
Springtime is not always beautiful, but it is always necessary. Anyone who has witnessed a birth knows it’s a messy business—beautiful, yes, but messy. Early spring is when the line between seasons blurs, and that feels a lot like my life right now. I’m in the pangs of a kind of rebirth, surrounded by mess: tangled emotions, a neglected house, and a life dominated by nursing school. I knew school would be a huge commitment, and it has taken up every corner of my life. I don’t regret starting, but another eleven months of this feels —at least in that moment—disheartening.
The birds have returned. A soft coo from a mourning dove, hidden somewhere in the trees. The woodstove is still going, taking the chill out of mornings and evenings. Outside, spring is brown and muddy. There are no leaves yet to break up the sun—just matted grass, dead leaves, fallen branches. Inside, I’m trying to accept this season of my life: hard, busy, and necessary. And still, if I’m honest, I want to skip ahead.
I’ve had a lot of regrets lately. A fifteen‑year relationship ended. Would I have been better off alone? I put my writing on the back burner to go to nursing school—was that the right choice? I spent so much time writing and blogging. Was it a good use of time? What do I even have to show for it?
A good friend and mentor offered some wisdom when I told her I felt like I’d wasted so much time trying—and failing—to find happiness. “Lorri,” she said, “you are young. You have so much life left.”
There is void in my life that was once filled with raising children and spending time with my significant other. The absence of both is something I feel acutely. I know that some endings are for the best, but grief doesn’t always listen to logic. It comes in waves, often accompanied by regret—the least helpful of emotions. Lately, though, I’ve been able to sit with these feelings and let them pass instead of trying to outrun them- my M.O. for most of my life. I feel apprehensive about the future. Even though I’ve always been fairly independent, I feel untethered now: no parents, no partner, no kids at home to raise. It’s just me.
Of course, I’m being a little dramatic. My kids may be out of the nest, but we are a close knit bunch. I have family and friends checking in on me, reminding me daily that I am loved beyond measure.
Springtime is messy and kind of ugly. That doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be appreciated. We don’t always have to seek beauty to find meaning. Sometimes the work is simply to sit in the muck for a while. I know these feelings will pass. My heart will continue to heal. The stress of school will eventually become a memory. And on the other side of this season, a new adventure is waiting.
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Author’s Note
This was written in March 2025. I am still in nursing school, but with only a few weeks left. About six months after my breakup, I met someone who reminded me that I am still capable of great love. And most days I am no longer carrying the burden of regret - I feel as thought this year, as hard as it has been - was necessary - just like springtime in Maine. I’ve come out stronger and more resilient, but also softer and happier.
So, friends—if you’re going through it, or even if you’re just coasting along ho‑hum—consider this a reminder: sometimes the best thing you can do is keep going and trust that what you seek will find you.
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Creating Intentional Joy in Your Life
Over the years I have learned that, when it comes to most parts of my life, I am the maker of my own happiness. While I would love for my family to clean the house without me asking (just once!) or receive an impromptu bouquet of flowers from my partner, I find that if I wait on other people to make me happy, most days are kind of ho-hum. This doesn’t mean that I don’t find joy from the people around me. I absolutely do! But I also know that there are many small ways that only I can make my cumulative days better. And I do that by adding in some intentional joy.
What is Intentional Joy?
I define Intentional Joy as actions I take that make me feel truly happy. Sometimes this means happiness in the moment, like picking up a bouquet of sunflowers at the grocery store or taking a break from the daily grind to wander about my flower garden. Other times Intentional Joy can be doing something for myself that I believe will bring me happiness over the long term. This includes things like regular physical activity, giving myself time to journal each day, keeping my space clean and clutter free, or working toward a personal or professional goal. Each time I create a new piece of content for Mabon House, I file it under Intentional Joy; because even if I don’t feel like writing or doing some design work in that very moment, I know that seeing the finished results WILL bring joy - to myself and my readers.
Sometimes intentional joy shows up as chores, exercise, the apple instead of the cookie (or the cookie instead of the apple). Other times it is take-out for one and a generous glass of wine to celebrate a win at work or other personal accomplishment. For me intentional joy is doing something that I know will make me feel better -sometimes in the moment, other times in the long run. It is about taking time to get clear on how I want to feel in my life and taking steps to feel that way as often as possible.
WHAT DOES YOUR BEST DAY LOOK LIKE?
What does your best day look like? I don’t mean what kind of house you’d live in or the type of car you’d drive if you won the lottery. I mean what would your current real life look like if you were living your purpose and finding happiness and abundance each and every day? What would you be doing? How would each day fulfill you? What kind of intentional joy would show up from day to day? Because, ultimately, that’s your goal – to create a life you love more often than not. To find joy in the small spaces, as well as the big events.
How Are You Spending Your Time?
One of the big problems with building in Intentional Joy, is that it can feel like there isn’t enough time in a day to do all the things you’d like to do.
But lack of time doesn’t have to hold you back from creating some intentional joy in your life. I’m here to say to you, as a kindred spirit, No one is going to give your permission to take time for yourself. You have to TAKE it.
Start making your self care a priority in your schedule. Carve out as much time as you need - no matter if that means half an hour or half a day. Give yourself time to do the things that will make you feel better and bring you joy. This may require letting go of things that don’t serve you (i.e. doom-scrolling before bed every night). You may need to ask for help (can your spouse make dinner and put the kids to bed, so you can have an hour of quiet, once a week?). If life is feeling stagnant, it’s time to get out of your comfort zone/regular routine and shake things up a bit.
Create Your Own Joy
Here is a fun exercise. Find one hour (or more) this week, to do something that will bring you some Intentional Joy. This could be planning a special Ostara meal, creating some spring-themed DIY projects or decor, trying a new beauty routine, reading a new book or simply writing in your journal. Whatever you decide to do, it should be Joyful - not time consuming or complicated. Spend it with your family or friends, if that makes you happy. Or spend solo, if that makes you happy. Mark that time off on your calendar and commit to doing something just for yourself. This small practice is something you can start to do a on a regular basis, to loosen the reigns of a rigid schedule and invite more joy into your everyday.