yes.

which is the trumpet flower blooming over a wall

which is tinged by lack, but rejects that lack:

instead, going everywhere, bright red, insistent

Some days I am so tired of how hard things are. I want enough money so I don't have to scrape all the time and worry about things. I want a house that isn't rented. I am sick of working on my dissertation, that apparently endless project, but anxious about getting a job when I'm done (which leads right into the funding-running-out worry). I miss my family and best friends in the U.S.

It's not all skipping down dappled lanes, reciting poetry and going for picnics dressed in Edwardian costume here.

But I read Juliana Spahr's stunning, amazing, absolutely beautiful This Connection of Everyone with Lungs twice in the last week. It reminded me that the project of saying yes is not only about a kind of immediate beauty. It's about being able to let things be--to know that what you can't control will be all right, and to go on, even when you're tired, loving the people around you (those you know and those you don't know) as hard as you can.