To celebrate the three day weekend, E and I got out of the city.
We went for a long walk in one of the most beautiful gardens I’ve ever seen in my life. It felt fitting for a holiday where people usually give each other flowers; we didn’t buy any from the dozens of people selling them on the corners, but still, we saw plenty of beautiful plants.
We talked about our relationship and the coming year. If I thought that March-April was a season of change, I’m really going to need to brace myself for May and June. Our conversation comes on the heels of a long phone call with a friend in New York. She’s thinking of leaving the city for another opportunity, and in a way, we both ended up giving each other the same advice.
Lately, I’ve felt that I grow more, and surprise myself more, when I have an abundance of opportunity around me. With every choice made not out of necessity but out of desire, I meet myself more and more. In university, I often felt proud of myself when I would do a lot with a little. A little time? How much volunteering and activity can I pack into it? A little sleep? How brilliant can the day become despite that limitation?
As the days of no sleep and less money are slowly fading behind me, it’s apparent that harder choices lie ahead. They’re more difficult not necessarily because the circumstances are dire, but rather because now is the time when I am more fully able to express myself. Instead of allowing an external limitation to explain why I wasn’t able to make certain moves, most of the limitations have shifted to become internal.
In that sense, I’m facing the more cosmic responsibility of being an adult. This figures into my relationship with E. Now that I may (or may not) be leaving academia, now that he may or may not be leaving his current position, what do we as individuals truly want, and how can we use our individual desires as the cornerstones for our household?
My journal is more fertile ground for the more specific things that I want to do with my life. Spending time wandering in green spaces gives me hope for the upcoming week, and helps me to believe that these things are possible. Dreams can feel fragile enough in the context of one’s day to day life, let alone when exposed to political movements.
It is hard to avoid feeling tossed about by circumstance, but I know that the feeling of “the right moment” is elusive. Instead of searching for it, I’m trying to find a satisfactory path forward, and not allowing perfection be the enemy of the good. It’s a lifelong exercise, but I feel like I’m seeing the fruits of that mental and emotional labor. It encourages me to keep going, keep imagining, and keep building from the cornerstones up.