“Surviving is important. Thriving is elegant.”
- Maya Angelou
For the three of us, it's our third trip to Maine. Three years of three flights to travel Austin to Portland, three full days together in the cabin, and three years to forge traditions that will last at least another thirty years.
Now, after these three years, Maine means Johnny Cash, questionable kitchen smells, coffee, nertz, reading out loud, boiling pond water, photos, coffee, leaf collecting, distinct lack of moose sightings, platonic bed-sharing, coffee, boulder-sitting, ship-yahd pumpkin beer, and fireside conversation.
We are genuinely stoked about these simple, haphazard traditions. And really, we can recreate them anywhere. So why are we so crazy about this long weekend? Why are we so in love with Maine?
I think Maine makes routine something special, even magical. It’s now an established pathway in our mind that’s as simple as a habit. Like putting on warm socks in the winter or the open sound of piano keys. Because we know them so well, there’s nothing left to do but enjoy it, anticipate it, tune into it. Let it work its magic on us all over again. We trust those feelings will return, you know? They just do.
Tradition, established by us three for these three years, is so powerful because it gives us the security to thrive, not just to survive. To rest in the love of it all. It’s not the adventure we crave anymore (although it certainly started that way), it’s the sanctuary.