koru/rebirth II
This year can be broken down into phases. This time last year was tumultuous. I don’t need to go into details. January through May was a time of fear, focus, and uncertainty. I was obsessed with my studies and doing well. From my gym class to an elective of photography, I wanted to learn as much as I could before I had to leave this safety on a hill of Northfield, Minnesota. Simultaneously I was scared about my plans for post college, what was going to happen to my relationship, what was going to happen to me.
June through July was working my body, learning, and the unawareness of the end. I was always tired, always sweaty. My bosses transgressed from just bosses to people I respected and felt a place in my heart for. Home was somewhat stressful: things weren’t always the most pleasant place between the heat of Minnesota summer, to some roommate troubles, to the natural ebb and flow of a relationship. But, in general, summer was what I needed at the time. Living with my boyfriend at the time and working on the land. My days were a routine of waking up covered in sweat, making breakfast, kissing Peter goodbye, going to work, coming home and showering off dirt, and then spending time cooking. Cooking dinner was a process of decompressing and working together. Sometimes it was tense, sometimes not so much. But it was definitely a summer of food. Beautiful, beautiful food.
August to now has been a rebirth of sorts. Peter and I broke up, I moved to Seattle with 6 strangers to work at a new place, live a new life, and challenge myself. I dealt with the break-up internally. My roommates confessed they were surprised how little I talked about it and more over how I was completely undramatic. In my heart I wondered how anyone would ever love me again. There’s this quote, something about fish not knowing that they are in water because it’s the only life they know. This period was when I was suddenly aware that I was in transition: I was alone, no one knew me, and I was uncertain if I would ever find another relationship. But, I found many. My community takes up a new place in my heart. And somehow, someway, I met someone. New relationships, new city, now happy. Fostering relationships with others has developed more of who I am. Being alone was a way to remember who I am and who I continue to be, but these new relationships with my housemates, LVC community, Corey and his friends has been that silver lining I’ve hoped for. Aint that nice.
