Over the past three years, I've been in various places: the south suburbs of Illinois; northern Illinois just by Iowa; Denver, Colorado; Bemidji, Minnesota; and more recently, Barcelona, Spain.
In the last week of October, I had no idea where I would be living: would I go more to Ohio with my parents? Try to stay in the south suburbs of Chicago or move to the city? Or would I try to live in Denver with my sister? The answer: none of the above.
I got hired on the fly and was asked to move to the Twin Cities. I'm living in St. Paul, learning, exploring it, and coming to really like it here. I imagine I'll go to other parts of the world sooner or later. Imagine me on a plane, on a bus, or a hippie van if you will. This is one rooted writer waiting in transition for the next part of her life.
Book on Navigation, Late 17th century-early 18th century
Ink and pigments on laid European paper bound between boards covered with red leather with gold.
Old Walled City — Lahore, Pakistan, 2012
You stop begging. You stop shrinking for people. You smile more. You say no more often. You not only begin to learn what makes you happy, you go and do it. You wear what you want to, you speak how you want to, you embrace the parts of you that are different. You don’t wait around for people. You don’t settle. You don’t let someone’s negative words make you question anything about yourself for longer than a few minutes (and eventually not at all). And, I think, through this self love you love others so much more, too.