bids for connection

OCTOBER

Vesper makes a bid by bringing me out into the world even when all I want is to go inside (myself). A world full of big movement and clumsy attempts and skilled climbing and joyful excitement in small spaces where all I find is fear. Vesper makes bids by heart-on-sleeve living, with unapologetic laughing, by filling my basement with joyful teenagers and my countertops with extravagant baked goods that aren’t for me but that are shared with me anyway.

Ondine makes a bid by bringing me into her world. A world full of blankets and paint palettes and books you’ve read before but you’re reading again because feeling good is reason enough. Ondine makes bids by trusting herself to say yes to what she can do and staying home when she can’t, a balm for any introvert raised in a culture that rewards extroversion. She’s never been graded, she doesn’t know the rubric, she does her thing and allows me to follow by barely noticing I’m there.

I make bids by insisting on making things more difficult, something I once considered my weakness now something I work on accepting with uncharacteristic hope. I insisted on a picnic and the menu said spaghetti and the kids said what could we do that is easier? But spaghetti is my favorite food and picnic is my favorite meal setting and the sun was out and it was warm for October and I am still strong enough to carry a Dutch oven across the grass and towards the lake. We brought cloth napkins because if you’re going to be difficult, you might as well lean into it.