Hi there, Blog.
I relocated to coastal Oregon in October 2022, and
"I would like to find a place to put down
roots and build a life and find a community to embrace and to be
embraced by and to grow into for the long-haul."
Winters in Oregon are long and wet and cold and dark and I am deeply resentful of it. Unfortunately, this coming winter of 2024-2025 I lost a sense of "home" and I still don't fully know how or where or when I'll regain it.
Some good things also happened: some walks and wanders, some new jobs in new little towns, a spontaneous fling, a few moments of real emotional and literal heights and feeling on top of the world from Cape Foulweather were had, and family visits brought comfort and courage. I traveled to Canada for the first time to reconnect with some of the best and most unlikely friends I've had the great good fortune to know.
To everything a season. Here's to Second Winter. May the seasons of the natural world serve to show that our own lives have seasons too, and we need only dress for the weather in order to enjoy it.
Long time; no see.
I've missed you. I've missed writing to you. I've missed thinking through my thoughts and my days and my self with you.
On Sunday, April 23, 2022, I wrote, "I fear the feeling of regret--that I
might regret this choice, this
impending move, this stage of my life wherein I take steps that look
like they might be forward but could so easily be years and miles
backward" when I thought I was going to move back to Weld county to be a
high school teacher. Well, I didn't do that. I got cold feet and
anxiety and the prospect of working as hard as teachers do for pay that
wouldn't cover the cost of living in Colorado felt overwhelming. So,
West I went.
I relocated to coastal Oregon in October 2022, and
Most importantly and significantly and upliftingly: I have discovered blessing hitherto unknown in the most unlikely of places. Not to be too reductive about it, but I met the greatest romantic love of my life so far...in a bar. He walked into my life and I served him a drink and now we live together and share a dog and a life and a love that grows and deepens with each passing day. I am astounded and bemused and in love. I like it.
Somewhat predictably and rather annoyingly, I have also delved into that pool I call fear and anxiety and have forgotten, in my shock at its coldness, how to swim. After I left Colorado for Oregon in 2022 and left teaching for hospitality (and then went back to teaching again), a lot, unsurprisingly, changed.
Winters in Oregon are long and wet and cold and dark and I am deeply resentful of it. Unfortunately, this coming winter of 2024-2025 I lost a sense of "home" and I still don't fully know how or where or when I'll regain it.
Some good things also happened: some walks and wanders, some new jobs in new little towns, a spontaneous fling, a few moments of real emotional and literal heights and feeling on top of the world from Cape Foulweather were had, and family visits brought comfort and courage. I traveled to Canada for the first time to reconnect with some of the best and most unlikely friends I've had the great good fortune to know.
I have collected enough questions that weigh so heavily upon me that they could fill and sink the Pequod to the bottom of the sea. "Where do I want to live?" "What do I want to do, professionally?"
To everything a season. Here's to Second Winter. May the seasons of the natural world serve to show that our own lives have seasons too, and we need only dress for the weather in order to enjoy it.
