Adulting.

    On Friday I found out that I didn't get accepted into a program I'd pretty much been banking on since the beginning of the year. I was already imagining my life immersed in Spanish again and what it would feel like to be on the airplane to Colombia come February. Turns out, it isn't my future. I'm still processing the loss of an imagined version of myself but more so, I'm leaning into what staying means. For so long there's be school or a program or re-defining experience glittering on the horizon giving shape and limit to the spaces I inhabit, sheltering long-term decision-making and responsibility. Baltimore has suddenly become not the place I'd think about returning to but the lead contender for where I will call home.
       The past month, in this space of waiting, I've felt more grounded and secure than a lot of last year-- largely due to relational time. There is always so much pressure to be defined by our work but that's such a small part of what makes my life meaningful. I've wanted time for the past two years-- time to create, to know a community, to show up in my relationships, to continue being at the prison for my friends there, to develop my Spanish. I'd rather live with a little more uncertainty and simplicity then sacrifice these times and spaces. I'm probably going to take a part-time position later today.  Now the project is to listen to this directive moment... a moment of staying here.