Return to the lake.

Rain every day and temperatures that have me wishing I had brought my sweaters. (Always bring sweaters lake side, always.)

A bathing suit that hangs on a hook, waiting for the heat of summer to remember to visit us.

A lake deepening from rain water, a list of projects that occupies our thoughts.

A few years ago I sat on a dock on a lake in Maine and I said, "I'm going to manifest a lake house." 

I was renting this house and cabins on the lake for my retreats and I knew that I needed to have a space that was mine. I knew it would be on a lake. I started scheming a thousand different ideas for how it might come to be. 

On that lake in Maine I first discovered loons. The crazy coyote bird that scared me as I heard their song in the dark of the woods.

Months later I sat on my light brown couch in the Loft next to a man who was showing me Lake Monomonac and telling me about this house. One he had been dreaming of since he was 8 years old and the story of how he was able to buy it a few years ago.

I sit typing this to you on the light brown couch that sits at the magic lake house. The house that is my heart home.


We packed up all the kids and this is where we'll spend the summer, they go to camp during the day, swim in the lake in the afternoon.

In July I'll welcome 4 women into the house for our first Lift Up of the season. I'm dreaming of how I could have a big retreat here soon. I can feel the pull again. It is strong. But different. New. It is something that hasn't yet been conceived but I can feel it wanting to come forth.

So. I sit. And listen. I pray over the water as the rain drops hit me this morning on the deck. 

Yesterday was wild and I felt on the verge of tears the whole day.

Chloe and I getting lost and not finding the antique store and getting her an omelette instead.

Barbecue sauce all over the rug and ceiling and walls.

Picking up a million sticks from the grounds.

Telling us they need Star Wars costumes for the morning with no warning to get supplies.

Two of us working from home and realizing that this summer will not hold my usual alone time and space.

Scrubbing two bathrooms on my knees.

Filling the truck with garbage, recycling and donation.

Watching the couple down the way walk each morning, he holds her arm, they both wear hats, and I can feel their connection.

Feeding the fish and feeling a bit off from one another.

Finding our way back, putting them to bed, setting the coffee pot, making tea.

Feeling off again. How shitty that feels and makes every breath feel.


My jaw locked so tight as I think about the amount of work we have to do and the transitions that are beginning again.

Post bleed. Not sure what it is, but I feel it.

This morning we walked together. I was so tender from feeling off and my lungs were fighting as we went up the long hills. We were inspired by their walking, the two of them, each morning.


We had only been together for a couple of weeks when he asked if I would come with him for a night to the lake house. It was April, cold. He told me there would be no running water and our heat would be a wood stove. We would arrive in the dark and leave early in the morning as he had a class to get to. 

I didn't see the lake until the morning. I remember standing naked in front of the window and feeling my heart  attaching to the water. 

Our paths criss cross in the past, we both spoke the words to leave our marriages the same month, almost the same day, before we knew the other was out there. Before we believed the other was out there.

The day he looked at the lake house he saw a loon on the water. The real estate agent said that was rare, they almost never saw them. Now the loon is our daily song. She lets us bring our boat right up to her side. 

He told me the loon was the sign that I was coming.


This morning turned into omelettes and more rain.

Coffee on the couch in awe of the 4 of them getting themselves ready for camp with only a few cues from us.

Plans to try to find the antique store again.

After camp we'll get in the truck and drive them back to their other homes. Transitions in full glory.


"Don't get too excited about it. It is just a small house on a lake, but I love it. I really want you to spend time there."

"I'm going to manifest a lake house."


And so it is.