Lost in Transition

"I tried to look, really look, as though this took a kind of effort far greater than the movement of my eyes. You are here, I would say to myself, no part of this moment melting into the future. You are only here and nowhere else. But I could never believe it. So I would take a photo, to stop the world, so that I could keep moving. The photo was just an approximation, the world flattened and made small. But I could past it in an album, put that album in a box, pack the box in my car, and drive. The best I could do was record where I had been before I kept on going." 

I keep reminding myself that everything happens for a reason. But it seems that I can't help but wonder, "Does it really?" It seems that I can't find a 'reason' for this time in my life. For this heaping dose of underwhelming free time that is a result of unemployment and uncertainties. People ask, "What are you so unsure about?" And it seems that I am unsure about well, basically everything...Where I want to live, what career path I want to take, what organizations I want to work for, what sacrifices I am willing to make, whose happiness is essential to my own, if Sadie would be able to live in an apartment, what I should have for lunch, etc. (The last one isn't exactly as important as the others, but you get the picture.)

Do I want (or rather need) to go back towards that Rocky Mountain High? Do I want (or rather need) to take a leap of faith and head a few hundred miles north to nurture a relationship? Or do I need to head in a completely different direction and finally start this journey on my own?

At first, I truly believed I wanted to be closer to home, to be closer to my childhood friends, my family, my roots. But now, after spending three months here in Small Town U.S.A., I can honestly say that I've been more than a little bit naive. I made several assumptions about what my life would be like with the people and places I once loved so intensely, but somehow failed to remember that one life lesson that is as certain as death and taxes.

People change. Friendships that once seemed salient to my identity, no longer are. Places that used to bring me an unparalleled sense of comfort, no longer do. Looking back on the past few months, I think I realized this from the very moment I crossed over the bridge from Oklahoma into Arkansas, but chose to ignore it. You know that warm feeling that comes over you when you come home after a long, stressful day? That 'Ahhhh..' feeling? It's no longer there. Nor was it there to even begin with. It just took me this long to finally own up to it.

It's been a while since I posted, so here's a compilation of a photos I've taken over the past few weeks. What are some of your favorite subjects to photograph?

A few of my wine bottles (the one of the far left is my favorite.)

Around our garden

This was a pretty magical shoot. Perfect weather, a slight breeze, and yellow butterflies all around.

Another extraordinary day and shoot. Went down to Sugarloaf lake one afternoon and found it completely deserted, save for a few fishermen.

The Bean is not a Coffee Shop

"I no longer believed in the idea of soul mates or love at first sight. But, I was beginning to believe that a very few times in your life, if you were lucky, you might meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because they were perfect or because you were, but because your combined flaws were arranged in such a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together." 
 

6 days. 400 photographs. 7 bottles of vino. 1 amazing man.

"He kissed me. Really put his arms around me and kissed me. It went through my body like he had flipped some electrical switch and lit me up. His skin was so warm, and he was suddenly so beautiful, and I thought, oh, this is what all the hype is about."

Many the Miles

"The world is so empty if one thinks only of mountains, rivers, and cities; but to know someone here and there who thinks and feels with us, and though distant, is close to us in spirit, this makes the earth for us an inhabited garden." 

 

It's been 42 days since I've seen the mountains.
Inhaled that wonderful humidity-free air.
Since I've felt that glorious Colorado sunshine, warming me from the top of my head to the tip of my toes.
Since I left the life I built for myself the past four years.
Since I left those who help me make sense of this world, those who keep me grounded, those who understand my point of view, those who share my enthusiasm for life, for the everyday.

Talking to an old friend really does show you how much you've changed. I find myself feeling a little unsure, a little uncomfortable around some of the people who have been in my life for as long as I can remember. The people who know my history, my family, my most sensitive insecurities...It's not that I'm unhappy with who I've become or anything like that, but it's that I'm finally starting to realize how much I have changed over the years and how they have not.

Trying to recapture the love that once was in a friendship makes for a very bumpy road, to say the least. Even admitting that things have changed with a beloved old friend proves to be pretty dang difficult for me, as I tend to pride myself on my ability to maintain friendships despite distance. I've done a pretty good job of it over the years, keeping up with all of my childhood friends below the Mason-Dixon line, while simultaneously cultivating new friendships out at school in CO. Right now it seems that those are the ones that are salient to this older version of myself, which makes for pretty heart wrenching moments throughout the day.

10 more days. 10 more days and I get to see one of those very special individuals who, surprisingly, helps make me, me.