Jill Paulson

“Life was kind and full of chances. Sometimes we didn’t take them. Sometimes we hid our truth and acted out of fear. Sometimes we turned away and closed the door.”
― Kristan Higgins, Good Luck with That

“We fell into a dreamy assonance. I drifted on the couch cushions down on the floor, attached to a warm baby limpet who was nearing his first birthday. Pollux’s breathing evened out and grew deeper. He was asleep. I stared at my husband’s face, the new cheekbones of a skinny man, his surprising beauty, and I decided to live for love again and take the chance of another lifetime.”
― Louise Erdrich, The Sentence

“I met Art a long time ago. Met him at ceremonies. Didn’t think of him in any romantic way. Art was too mellow. Not my type.” She smiles to herself before sighing.

"I used to be with this one guy. I thought the sun rose just to shine light on him. He was handsome and smart and the life of the party. But oh, when we fought … it was so bad.” She shivers and pulls the coat around her more tightly. “He consumed all the oxygen in the room and left nothing for me to breathe. If the sun dared to shine on me instead of him, it was my fault. The only way to keep him happy, to see the version of him he was when other people were around, was to make myself small.”

Her voice cracks. “It’s hard when someone says they love you, but they need to contain and control the things that make you you.”

She pauses to put semaa onto the ashes. “So I left him. I came back to the sweat lodge. Stayed sober for ceremonies. It felt like Creator breathing air back into me. I ran into Art again. Saw him clearly this time.”

Auntie closes her eyes as the snowflakes land on her cheeks.

“Oh, I still managed to screw up plenty. I used to start fights with Art to see what he would be like when he was angry. I’d say hurtful things … and then turn away quickly. He asked me why I did that.” Tears roll down her cheeks. “I told him I was bracing for his punch. ‘That’s not love,’ he told me. ‘Love honors your spirit. Not just the other person’s but your own spirit too.’ ”

When she looks at me, my aunt seems at peace.

“I found my way back to minobimaadiziwin, our good way of life. I love and am loved. I am true to Creator and to wiijiindiwin.” She points her lips to her home, where her husband and babies sleep. “Honor your spirit. Love yourself.”
― Angeline Boulley, Firekeeper’s Daughter