There have been good times.
Living with a wonderful group of women this past year that
showed me what it means to have community through food and stories, to support
each other through the nitty gritties of the self, even when it’s hard and
frustrating.
A final year of college that showed me the joy of
spontaneity and goofiness, the destructive but rewarding feeling of stress and
no sleep, the joy of a community that has met me where I “am” for the last four
years.
Living in Goshen
for the summer, working 40 hours and paying rent…feeling like a grown-up but
still shedding professionalism after 5 p.m. for the dearest, wildest times with
close friends.
Accepting a dream internship next year with Sojourners magazine in Washington, D.C.; knowing I’ll be out my comfort zone
and challenged but it will all be in the name of growth.
Getting to know someone this summer who has listened and cared with the
deepest respect; the vulnerability and thoughts that come within all of that.
From A Field Guide to Getting Lost :
“Of course to forget the past is to lose the sense of loss that is also memory of an absent richness and a set of clues to navigate the present by; the art is not one of forgetting but letting go. And when everything else is gone, you can be rich in loss.”
Yes, I have not forgotten the past. I remember the richness
of the past that was once my present, it is that memory that has propelled me and
told me to embrace what is good.
I’ve been rich in my loss. For the art is not of forgetting, but of letting go. These days are good, and that’s to be
celebrated.
