List #5: Signs of Blooming

It has been five months since I last visited this little blog. I do this for myself, so I have no deadlines to meet or followers to entertain. During my time away, I traveled through Chile for a while, an experience so incredible that typed words in a small white box on a bigger white page could never do it justice. In South America, I sprained my ankle, got a mean toe infection, screwed up my knees, and generally hobbled around for a majority of my travels. While it sounds as if I crumbled, with every injury I was piecing myself back together again. I felt pain, yes, but I also felt joy and laughed heartily and ate way too much peanut butter and felt truly connected to my best friend and travel companion. I made guacamole with fresh paltas and spoke broken Spanish and floated in the saltiest water in the driest desert. I drank maté and ate chai ice cream and filled my belly with sunshine. I came home on my way to achieving wholeness. Finally, I thought. After what has seemed like an eternity of feeling empty, I was finally on my way to feeling full. 

Of course, it is never that simple. The only thing I know for sure is that I know very little; I should not have been surprised when what I thought was going to be my big break turned into another fall. While I returned home nearly two months ago, while I posted about a fresh start almost half a year ago, there are days when I feel like I am going nowhere. I have spent months applying for jobs, sending out resumes and cover letters like it is my profession. I am considering adding "Professional Job Applicant" under the Experience heading. I spend my days trolling the internet for teaching jobs and I spend my nights standing behind a wooden host stand, cleaning menus and showing upper-middle class folks to tables in a dimly lit restaurant. I watch a lot of Scandal and eat a lot of avocado and check my email a stupid amount. I am becoming a bit too comfortable with solitude. 

So, things are happening for me. 

I am living, but some days I feel more alive than others. I am slowly gathering the pieces, but what I am looking for is a life. And that's a tall order. Because there is no singular life, no one right way to live. The way I make my living, the way I make a life, that's on me. I am the creator- we all are. How scary and beautiful that is. I am so insanely lucky and blessed and privileged to even have a choice, to have a say in where my story goes next. There are too many in this world who are not afforded that opportunity, who don't get to be a Millenial who is finding herself because they have to be breadwinners now, no time to dawdle because there is work to be done. 

I grapple with such stagnancy and privilege every day. The only way I come up feeling okay about things is when I remind myself that I am doing the best I can. I am putting one foot in front of the other. I am working towards self-sufficiency. It is easy to feel as though nothing has happened since I last visited this little blog. But just like the flowers after these endless days of rain, there are signs that I am blooming. There are signs that life is taking shape. 

I am:

1. Running outside again 

2. Starting to date 

3. Making lists of things to look forward to

4. Finding joy in small things

5. Feeling excited about teaching again

6.Understanding I deserve better

7. Cherishing beautiful female friendships 

8. Embracing the beauty that is a bralette 

9. Going to therapy 

10. Learning that a good cry is nothing to run from 

11. Accepting the 23rd year of my life as the most tumultuous to date 

12. Wanting to spend Saturdays contentedly alone 

13. Trying my hand at baking 

I am a late bloomer in this freshman year of life, but I am in bloom nonetheless. Though I graduated nearly one year ago and have spent many days wondering where one Earth I am headed, I have to believe that I am growing up and out and into someone who will have direction and purpose and fulfillment. I am not there yet. But, there is beauty in this middle place: right before the petals open and what has bloomed shows itself off to the world. 

List #4: The Fresh Start Manifesto

I am stuck in transition. (Surprise!) Like so many twenty-somethings, I have lost my sense of direction. (And while I'm sure thirty-somethings and forty-somethings and so on are confused, too, in some ways they must be more stable, right? That is what I must believe to stay sane). I have tried to switch gears, to focus on the reasons life is better now that my formal schooling years are on pause, but I keep coming up empty, left with the numerous ways in which life is more painful, instead. While I am sure some day I will see this time as a beautiful new beginning, (an outlook I have already attempted to adopt and have even written about on this blog),  I can no longer foster such gross naiveté. I am in a continued state of transition, a fate which is uncomfortable and difficult to embrace. A state which I share with so many others. A condition which goes unacknowledged due to the unreasonable expectation to have life figured out, as if life is a formula that, when executed just right, produces one correct solution.

There are many ways to carry out your existence. As long as you are trying to live your best life, to be kind to yourself and others, to be understanding of the fact that very little is understood, you are doing it right.

Though I wholeheartedly believe that to be true, it is so easy to feel like I am doing it wrong. I thought I would graduate college and feel sad and nostalgic for a while, eventually coming to realize that the endless possibilities life without school presents suit me well. I thought I would fit into the post-grad world, as I have been lucky enough to find my way in every other space I've inhabited to date. Instead, I feel like I am in my 23 year old body, operating at a maturity level of someone who is somewhat older, exercising my youth with the vivacity of an 80-something whose bad hip makes it difficult to go out and have a good time. My hips are fine. There is no excuse. And yet, I continue to live this way, paralyzed by the Great Unknown, a horrid creature that has done nothing but wreak havoc. 

I have been stuck for far longer than I ever imagined, and I want out. 

So, I am creating a Fresh Start Manifesto. 2017 is coming, and with it, the chance to begin again. I have never bought into the idea that a new year can bring about a new you. Change is slow and often disappointing- it seems unwise to place such pressure on what is, in actuality, just an excuse to buy a new calendar. While I do not wish to set unrealistic expectations on the coming year, I have decided to lean into the symbolism. 2017 won't be the year I graduate from college, break up with my boyfriend, or move back home. That already happened. So now I, like everyone else in this world, have a choice to make. On January 1st, I can continue to hold onto the misery and anxiety and emotional rawness I have experienced over the past 12 months, or I can begin the arduous process of letting go. I am too clumsy to walk backwards. Forward it is.

Rules for the Fresh Start Manifesto are simple. Set aside some time for contemplation and be honest with yourself. Rather than set goals, make a list of the ways in which you want to live, the qualities you wish to possess, and the hopes you have for your relationships (familial, friends, etc.). This list can be amended throughout the year. It's just the start.

1. I will accept love that is both mutual and kind.

2. I will make time and space for the people in my life who make time and space in return, letting go of relationships that don't seem to have room for me any longer.

3. I will make an effort to meet new people, opening myself up to those who may be in my life for an evening, a few months, or a lifetime.

4. I will tell people when they have hurt me, expecting and accepting the same honesty from others.

5. I will write myself a letter at the end of each month. In 2018, I will have 12 letters to read throughout the year.

6. I will treat myself like I treat my best friends.

7. I will let myself heal at whatever pace is necessary.

8. If and when the time comes, I will create a Relationship Manifesto, making a list of what I need and expect in future romantic relationships.

9. I will express rather than suppress my emotions.

10. I will treat my students with kindness and compassion, encouraging them to be their goofy, creative selves each day.

This list is simple. I already try to do most of what is written here. The Fresh Start Manifesto is just a reminder, a place to revisit when life is confusing and lonely. If nothing else, it is therapeutic to write down the ways in which this year could be different, in which your approach to life could change. I hope that 2017 treats you kindly, though it will inevitably be filled with unforeseen twists and turns. One addition to my list above is that when the twenty-something condition has got me down, I'll share my thoughts and what little knowledge or wisdom I have gathered. Stay tuned.

List #3: Reasons to Adopt Your Inner-5 Year Old

I teach Kindergarten. In the past month and a half, I've been reminded of what it is to be young- like really, really young. 5 year olds have very little figured out. Their conception of the world, of each other, of their teachers and their parents, is constantly forming. They are shocked when you tell them that you, in fact, have a mom and a dad too. That you have a home and a life that exists beyond the classroom's four walls. They are figuring out who they are, who they wish to be, just like most humans. The difference is that as Kindergarteners embark on a search for self, they remain okay with who they are presently. Their minds will undoubtedly change, they will decide that they really don't like broccoli or that they actually do know how to read that word, but all the while they are unabashedly who they are. And who they are is fantastic! I'm serious. My kindergarteners do not care what others think about them, not in the slightest. Sometimes this gets them into hot water. When they are so themselves that they don't care if they have hurt your feelings. When they are so themselves that they spit on you or punch you because they feel angry and know no better than to authentically display such emotion. At times like these, their inability to censor their feelings or read situations may get them into trouble. With that said, I think their shameless display of self is worth that trouble. How different this life would be if we embraced our inner-five-year-old. If you're confused as to how tapping into your childish past could be of any service in the present, I've drawn up a list of benefits to adopting the Kindergartener mindset.

1. 5-year-olds are resilient. When kids bump their heads, they shake it off and keep moving. When they burst into tears for one reason or another, they bounce back within seconds. They're incredible in this regard. At 23, I am consistently practicing resilience. I could stand to take a page out of my students' books. While it has taken me months to climb up from my post-graduation low, I feel proud of the strides I've made. Though young children at times encounter challenges which are mountains to them but mole hills to the adults in their lives, many kiddos see and experience more trauma and trials than I will in my entire life. Yet, they show up for school each day. They might have a rough day, they may be unable to process everything they are going through, but they keep moving. So much of this resilience is undoubtedly learned from the strong, inspiring role models they likely have as parents and guardians, or as siblings and cousins when their elders fail them. Whoever they've learned this trait from, they've learned it well.

2. Kindergarteners are honest. They'll let you know when you're having a bad hair day or if you've made them mad. They tell you and then they continue on, and you do too. There are so many things I have held inside until near spontaneous combustion because I was too nervous/afraid/unwilling to be honest. Sure, kids lie, but not about what's important. Not about their emotions. Not about how you've made them feel. And that, I'm coming to find, is what counts.

3. Adopting your inner-five-year old means learning to use your imagination again. We all have the ability to imagine. It seems that for many, the imagination is a piece of us that has taken a long hiatus, so long that we can't remember when we last dusted it off and took it for a spin. My students are constantly imagining and dreaming. They are constantly curious, wanting to know what it would be like if pumpkins were human, or if apples could talk, or if dinosaurs still walked the earth. Their whimsical fantasies make the world a bit brighter, light we all know our world desperately needs.

4. Kiddos know how to LET LOOSE. Every Friday we 'dance it out,' celebrating the week we've had and the weekend ahead. My goodness, those kids can DANCE. They put their entire heart and soul into our Friday dance parties, and they don't care that their flailing arms and noodle-ish bodies look absolutely absurd. While they are not trying to impress, I am constantly floored at their high self-esteem and low concern for how they are perceived. In this way, 5 year-olds and their grandparents are kindred spirits, marching to their own beat and letting the world fall in step behind them. The rest of humanity, those aged 10 to 70 or so, are left searching for that lack of shame and absence of self-consciousness. I hope that, by some miracle, my students never question the beat they are marching to, entirely bypassing the pain that is self-doubt.

Don't get me wrong. I am thankful to know more about myself, about others, about the world around me, than I did when I was 5. I don't want to go back to being selfish and entirely dependent on the adults in my life. I don't wish to return to the daily emotional meltdowns and the inability to brush my own teeth without risking a mouthful of cavities. Yet, I do want to revisit what it feels like to bounce back like a rubber band at lightning speed, to play alone in my yard for hours and need no company other than myself. I want to add these 5-year-old tendencies to my 23 year-old being. With a collision of those two worlds, I think I may find something that resembles wholeness. 

List #2: Instant Pick-Me-Ups

An inevitability of growing older is this: that which once brought you ready comfort as a child might not do the trick anymore. When you're five, a skinned knee can be remedied with a quick kiss and a reassuring smile. That's all it takes. 15 seconds later and you're back to running around, talking to animals and tending to the tiny village you've created to house all the local fairies. How I wish that could solve my present-day 'skinned-knee,' the constant battle to feel content during a time of life that is impossibly confusing. How are you supposed to feel content when you are constantly peppered with questions like: "So, what's next?" or "When do you plan to move out?" or "You're not getting paid?!?!"Answering any of these exhausting inquiries requires thinking about the future, putting a damper on this whole come-what-may-let-the-moose-run thing. It seems that central to the twenty-something condition is the fissure between making the prudent decision to do what is practical and the gnawing desire to find fulfillment in that which is adventurous and invigorating but highly unprofitable. Where's the middle ground? Can I be a sensible adventurer, or does that defeat adventure's point? When I think too hard about any of this I get nowhere, but when I focus on the present I feel like everyone over the age of thirty is waiting for me to make my next move (which is highly unfair because the 30+ crowd is most likely well-established, adjusted, and settled, three things that I am not yet but could be some day). This is where my list comes in: When my head and body become bogged down with the weight of expectations and my good friend the Great Unknown refuses to give me some space, I say fook it and turn to one of these Instant Pick-Me-Ups:

1. Get in the car, blast/sing every word to Natasha Bedingfield's "Unwritten" and luxuriate, for just a moment, in how good such unabashed goofiness feels.

2. Alternately, stand on your bed, put your head phones in and bop to Robyn's "Dancing on My Own," the best breakup/bad day/celebration/stress relief song to ever exist. Thanks, Robyn.

3. Eat a pint of Ben and Jerry's and feel no guilt because you are beautiful and you try your best and you mean well and for that you should be rewarded with the greatest medicine for the soul: ICE CREAM.

4. Write yourself a love letter and hide it in the pocket of something you won't wear for a few months (example: winter jacket if it's July).

5. Put on your favorite pair of sweatpants (or, better yet, who needs pants?!?!?!?), crawl under the covers and watch lots of movie trailers.

6. Make lists of things that make you happy.

7. Watch this beautiful video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IpbDHxCV29A.

8. Go for a long, possibly barefoot walk somewhere quiet.

9. Read old letters/notes/emails from friends, family, lovers, etc.

10. Exercise in some form and then treat yourself (see #3).

I make no promises that this will work for anyone else but myself. Do what works for you and then get back to pondering the twenty-something condition, it will still be there after you finish that pint.

List #1: Things that are better about 'life after graduation'

1. Nothing is better.

What's that? That's not a list, you say? You (the proverbial you, whoever you are), are correct. A list with one item is totally lame and not a list at all. 3 months ago, however, that is all I would have been able to type under this heading. Graduating college broke my heart into a million little pieces and I hardly had time to sweep them back into my chest before I was promptly removed from my housing and told to get a life (what good is a blog if you can't be a little dramatic?) I cried for days and then went off to work in the wilderness for the summer where I cried some more. Then, by some divine miracle, I stopped crying and started living my life again. A funny thing about camp is that there are catch phrases, acronyms, and quotes which we camp people accept as truth and spew at one another on repeat until we have memorized these truths and stitched them into the lining of our hearts so that we'll never forget them. One such 'truth' that I heard countless times: "Let the moose run. Eat some blueberries." Wise words from Douglas Wood, an author, musician, and naturalist who wrote a lovely book called Paddle Whispers which I intend to read someday soon. His words make more sense when put in the context of a longer poem; however, here's a rough translation: "Get over whatever is dragging you down, realize that you can't change your situation/save the world/ make things better for yourself in one day. Relax and eat some antioxidants, they're good for your health." (Note to self: must get better at paraphrasing, summaries are typically shorter than the original source). In short, I stopped crying and started living because I came to understand what Wood was hedging at- that life is too short to attack every issue at once, that you will surely have a longer, happier existence if you breathe and greet each day as it comes.

So. I am trying something new where I let the moose run (I've always liked blueberries so that last bit hasn't been too tricky to adopt). In my eyes, 'let the moose run' means 'let it go' or 'this too shall pass.' Some examples of me letting the moose run: I forgot how to communicate with older adults at a family party recently and entered into awkward conversation after awkward conversation during which I was asked several times whether I had graduated high school yet- let the moose run. My mom suggested that it might be best if I don't eat ice cream every day- let the moose run. I left a bag of brownie mix out in the open and my dog ate it and needed to be hospitalized- let the moose run. These aren't the best examples by any means, but proverbial you, you get the idea, right? By letting the moose run, I am also trying to embrace everything that is absolutely horrifying about my current situation (practically unemployed, living at home, far away from my very best people). Which can be hard. Hence the list that I lamely started 500 words ago and which I will try to continue now:

1. I can read for pleasure!
2. I won't be asked if I am a college first year any more (I'll just be mistaken for a high school freshman instead).
3. There is no way to lock myself out of my room.
4. I can follow the news (something I could have done before graduating but will absolutely grow up and do now).
5. I can move in with my friends from college like on Friends!!!
6. No more stressing about how much money I have on my student card to buy coffee- I'll just use real money now which is never stressful and always in abundance (I hope sarcasm shines through in the blogosphere).
7. This is the time of life where you're allowed to mess up, like you're supposed to make mistakes and blame it on being a twenty something post-grad who is lost and in denial.
8. After studying forever and discussing without acting and reading without doing... Now I can act! I can do! I can teach! It is exciting to be doing the thing I've been working towards for 4+ years, even if it is also nauseating and exhausting and terrifying.
9. More reasons to come- my entire life from this point on will be 'after graduation' so I'll undoubtedly add what's better about it as soon as I know.

I am not obtuse. I realize that the above list is a bit lackluster and at times sardonic. It's a start, though. Letting the moose run and getting stoked about creating a new life after leaving a very established, comfortable and blessed life behind is something I may be working on for years to come. In the time being, I'll eat my blueberries and figure out the rest as it comes. Moose be damned.