Change surrounds me.
Tomorrow, I return to school for meetings to prepare for another year of shaping young minds.
This morning, I began to sort through my belongings to prepare to move.
Last week, I made a payment towards another graduate class.
With the end of each season comes this strange melancholy that finds me lying on my living floor for hours, illuminated by only candles, with the sounds of some record (such as Bon Iver or The National) softly humming through the speakers. I just lie there on the soft white shag rug my parents gave to me for Christmas last year. I stare at the ceiling thinking of all the people in my life and the events and activities we have participated in together over the course of the last few months and of the times that are to come in the next few months.
This summer has felt long, but it comes to an abrupt halt as I face my return to work tomorrow.
This summer, I celebrated my friend Sarah's birthday on a rooftop in Chicago.
This summer, I visited Seattle, where I saw my friends Maria and Laura, hiked up Rattlesnake Ledge in the Cascade Mountains, swam in the Puget Sound and Lake Washington, and explored the city.
This summer, Maria and I ran a half marathon with our friend Mallory on Sauvie Island just north of Portland, Oregon. We hobbled away, stiff and sore, but we felt accomplished, and I smiled all day long. We saw my friend Alyssa, walked around the Rose Gardens, searched for brunch daily, and ate the best ice cream of the summer-- sea salt ice cream w. caramel ribbon and almond brittle w. salted ganache from Salt & Straw.
This summer, I visited home, where I played a lot of Settlers of Catan until late hours of the night, explored Detroit with Dad and saw his childhood home and elementary school, and relaxed with family at home (where we ate a lot of ice cream to celebrate summer).
This summer, I danced for three days straight at Lollapalooza in Chicago, and that left me filled with the kind of joy that forces me to smile from deep within.
This summer, I read many books and drank a lot of good coffee.
This summer, I camped with co-workers and tubed down the Muskegon River.
This summer, I baked cupcakes with kids and took them to the library weekly.
This summer, I got a new tattoo of the Great Lakes to celebrate the place where I live and the water I love.
And now, I face the fall, which is filled with opportunities both exciting and nervewracking.
This fall, I return to school to teach English to the students I love with the co-workers I love.
This fall, I will take my second graduate class: Race, Class, and Language.
This fall, I may be buying a house and moving to the southeast side of GR (God willing it all works out!)
With the purchase of a house comes a lot of mixed feelings. I am so excited about the idea of feeling settled in a place and investing money in a place of my own (rather than paying rent for years to come). I am excited about the possibility of living even closer to school and being able to really invest in that community. I am excited about having a front porch and a backyard (which means more space to host friends and family)! With the purchase of a house, I am also nervous about having less money to travel more, and I am nervous that my friends will move away from Grand Rapids while I grow roots here. Growing roots means investing in a community, but it also means I'm stuck here for a while, and I hope that I can stay okay with that. I have to constantly remind myself that I am still young, and that I can do good and have adventures here in Grand Rapids for a few more years, and if the opportunity to move elsewhere comes up in the future, I can go out into the world then. For now, I have my breaks and summers to explore the world. For now, I will do my best to enjoy the changes coming my way and embrace them.
Tomorrow, I return to school for meetings to prepare for another year of shaping young minds.
This morning, I began to sort through my belongings to prepare to move.
Last week, I made a payment towards another graduate class.
With the end of each season comes this strange melancholy that finds me lying on my living floor for hours, illuminated by only candles, with the sounds of some record (such as Bon Iver or The National) softly humming through the speakers. I just lie there on the soft white shag rug my parents gave to me for Christmas last year. I stare at the ceiling thinking of all the people in my life and the events and activities we have participated in together over the course of the last few months and of the times that are to come in the next few months.
This summer has felt long, but it comes to an abrupt halt as I face my return to work tomorrow.
This summer, I celebrated my friend Sarah's birthday on a rooftop in Chicago.
This summer, I visited Seattle, where I saw my friends Maria and Laura, hiked up Rattlesnake Ledge in the Cascade Mountains, swam in the Puget Sound and Lake Washington, and explored the city.
This summer, Maria and I ran a half marathon with our friend Mallory on Sauvie Island just north of Portland, Oregon. We hobbled away, stiff and sore, but we felt accomplished, and I smiled all day long. We saw my friend Alyssa, walked around the Rose Gardens, searched for brunch daily, and ate the best ice cream of the summer-- sea salt ice cream w. caramel ribbon and almond brittle w. salted ganache from Salt & Straw.
This summer, I visited home, where I played a lot of Settlers of Catan until late hours of the night, explored Detroit with Dad and saw his childhood home and elementary school, and relaxed with family at home (where we ate a lot of ice cream to celebrate summer).
This summer, I danced for three days straight at Lollapalooza in Chicago, and that left me filled with the kind of joy that forces me to smile from deep within.
This summer, I read many books and drank a lot of good coffee.
This summer, I camped with co-workers and tubed down the Muskegon River.
This summer, I baked cupcakes with kids and took them to the library weekly.
This summer, I got a new tattoo of the Great Lakes to celebrate the place where I live and the water I love.
And now, I face the fall, which is filled with opportunities both exciting and nervewracking.
This fall, I return to school to teach English to the students I love with the co-workers I love.
This fall, I will take my second graduate class: Race, Class, and Language.
This fall, I may be buying a house and moving to the southeast side of GR (God willing it all works out!)
With the purchase of a house comes a lot of mixed feelings. I am so excited about the idea of feeling settled in a place and investing money in a place of my own (rather than paying rent for years to come). I am excited about the possibility of living even closer to school and being able to really invest in that community. I am excited about having a front porch and a backyard (which means more space to host friends and family)! With the purchase of a house, I am also nervous about having less money to travel more, and I am nervous that my friends will move away from Grand Rapids while I grow roots here. Growing roots means investing in a community, but it also means I'm stuck here for a while, and I hope that I can stay okay with that. I have to constantly remind myself that I am still young, and that I can do good and have adventures here in Grand Rapids for a few more years, and if the opportunity to move elsewhere comes up in the future, I can go out into the world then. For now, I have my breaks and summers to explore the world. For now, I will do my best to enjoy the changes coming my way and embrace them.
