Lessons Learned While Backpacking
Each night I picked a spot at least a hundred yards from our tent and then listened, obsessively, for the sound of mischief.
Ansley Kelly (’16) makes her home in Rochester, NY, where she delights in short, sweet summers spent sailing and long winters spent skiing at her favorite mountain. Between outdoor adventures, you can find her buying books more quickly than she can read them and indulging in mid-morning naps. She works for Wegmans Food Markets where she finds purpose and joy in feeding her community and the wider world.
Morning Walks
Sometimes I take my tea, and sometimes I don’t.
My Childhood Palate
On other nights, Dad would come out to campfires we were so fond of building, cracking open a big can of baked beans to nestle into the coals on the edge of the pit.
A Fullness of Human Life
While my purpose wasn’t the conversion of my coworker, I like that she might think about God’s interest in her life when she walks past the bananas.
Burnout Dreams
I struggle to find contentment and seek new adventures almost compulsively.
Sister Vacations
It felt like we had pulled one over on the natural order of things.
Back to the Mountain
That’s how I felt, at 10 p.m. on a Sunday night, in a town that you may never visit—with my stethoscope around my neck, gloves on my hands, and ski boots on my feet.
Kind, Generous, and Magical
I learned to wriggle my fingers deep into the mud at the base of the green leek stems and to gently coax the bulbs from the earth.
Tipping the Scales
Death, in our lived experience, is horrifyingly final.
Undercooking the Turkey
I walked our meat department every day looking for the perfect bird on which to dote and ultimately roast to golden, crispy-skinned perfection.
Lifetimes: The Gifts My Father Gives
Then there’s hunting, and the days that dad would pull us out of school for a “family emergency” so that we could chase after dogs who chased after pheasants and then watch as their iridescent feathers caught the autumn sun.
Compassion, Dignity, and Adult Diapers
A nurse stood at my head, encouraging me to take slow breaths.
And That’s the Hard Part
I haven’t been well enough to take a trip with a friend in three years.
Lease on Life
I couldn’t remember what it felt like to have something left at the end of the day.
Hold It Loosely
Blind tenacity doesn’t quite seem to fit this season.
Brené and Me
This is not the place to use your energy. Smile and move on.
Not in Pain
I figured that she deserved to hear about one sunny day when I wasn’t in pain.
Meditations on Gratitude
I used to think that gratitude would rob me of joyful anticipation.
Monsters Underfoot
I feel beautiful and wicked—flying fast and fearless.
The Urgent Reality of Heaven
If all of creation is spinning towards destruction, why does anything matter at all?
Our Actual Lives
Even if all I managed was driving to the patrol room and re-stocking my pack, I wasn’t going home to the couch.
Field Notes on Hunting
It is remarkably easy to forget the fullness of story in each chicken breast.
All Creatures Great and Small
The rawness of this proximity to life makes me feel vulnerable, sort of like therapy but without the armchairs.
Drink the Wine, Burn the Candle
Her comment broke the meditative silence of our post-dinner respite, and we stumbled into the idea with the dazed confusedness of young students in the presence of wisdom.
Looking Forward to Everything
Choosing hope today doesn’t deplete what’s available to us tomorrow.
Landlocked
I used to finish races like that so sweaty and happy and exhilarated that I didn’t need any rum to feel like the queen of the world.
Creation
And yet, even there, in that peaceful place, my brow furrowed with unrest.
Ten Traits I’m Looking for in a Husband
I didn’t expect to be single at twenty-five, but here we are.
Mississippi Dog
At that moment, Cline walked up and said, in his miraculously gentle drawl, “You can take her home if you want to.”
Fear, Formula, and Getting Better
It’s like merging onto a highway when you’re not sure you remember how to drive.
