Dear Reader,
Around May I started to lose creative steam. Thankfully, it was just in time for summer, the world began opening back up, and suddenly everyone wanted to spend time together. I abruptly had a very active social calendar, a novelty after a year and a half of distancing from others and the inability to travel. Since March I have visited Denver, Boston, and New York City (not to mention beach trips) with excellent people I’m blessed to know. I am currently writing to you from Wheaton, Illinois, home to my Alma mater Wheaton College. Tomorrow I take a train to Chicago.
I craved the freedom and fresh sites that come with traveling and thought to myself “Good, this will refresh my creative spirits and open the door for new material.” On the return of each trip, however, it was like nails on a chalkboard to drag myself back to the desk. Even when I did successfully sit down and face the screen, I shuffled through words and sentences with all the bravado of a disgruntled hermit crab.
When energy and enthusiasm continued to evade me, I didn’t recognize my state of despondency until I learned I need to find new housing in a few months. You can bet that woke me up, not only because I love where I live and the thought of moving is daunting, but because I am also in the thesis portion of my masters, soon to graduate. (For those of you considering a graduate degree in creative writing, my experience at Harvard University Extention School has been excellent).
All of this begged the question “What’s next?” After the mild panic and grief, understanding an incredible season of my life is coming to a close, I realized the answer to “what next.” Anything! The possibilities of what to do and where to go are limitless. Now, despite the lingering sadness and unease, I have something to strive towards, and that is beyond exciting. Without the “why,” the work feels pointless.
Visiting my undergraduate school for the first time in five years has been eye-opening. It’s just as beautiful as I remember, and the people are as kind, intelligent, and genuine. But I remember how huge the place felt when I first walked onto campus ten years ago, and how sad I was to leave four years later, wondering “what’s next?” and “how could it get better than this?”. But it did get better.
I’ve decided humans are a bit like hermit crabs. We grow, and the perimeters of our world widen. Eventually, we’re living within the confines of a shell now too small. If we don’t shuck the shell and find a new house, a life that’s big enough for the person we have become, we will grow stunted. We may even lose hope because the “why,” the point, is missing. (Watch the link above to see hermit crabs find their new shell. It’s a bit like the housing market these days).
I don’t know where this last year has left you, but I’ll bet you’re a different person than you were at the beginning of this season. Coming from someone who’s going through massive life changes herself, let me attest that it will take time to find the right home, to adjust to this new phase of life. Give yourself grace, and have fun picking out the right shell. It will get even better.
READS
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ART
I am currently taking commissions for paintings and drawings. The first painting below is available for sale. The second is sold, and both will soon be available as prints through Society6. Please reach out to me through email if you are interested in purchasing original work.
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