What was so striking about yesterday is how normal, how reasonable it felt to be at St. Mary's. I have not been there for 8 years (perhaps 9)--in any case, the better part of a decade, and even with all the changes, it was to me what it always had been. A sanctuary at the end of the line. The last thing on the western bank of Maryland before everything fades to water. It seemed completely right that I should be hanging out with Sarah and my sister, who is now a student there, in all the places I used to walk, pray, laugh, cry, and hope.

The reading went well. I read the poem with as much courage as I could muster. It is a piece that still causes me to experience emotional tremors, even though I wrote it nearly three years ago. It had never been read aloud, formally--and I was happy I got an opportunity to share it in that specific forum of women writers. The response to it was warm, affirming, and gracious.

I feel that attending this celebration of women's voices--reading my own work as a celebration of where my life is headed--was a hurdle I needed to clear, and at the same time a coronation of sorts. If you are more for sports, the tip off or kick off. In any case, the beginning. So fitting that everything should start again where it all started.