At the end of June, we packed all our belongings into a 16ft moving van and drove east, leaving Portland to return to my home state of Wisconsin, where I will being a PhD program in Madison. Transitions are a time of excitement and dread, delight in the new and longing for the old, exhilaration and exhaustion. I’ve moved a lot, but this time it felt different. Maybe because Portland is the longest I’ve lived in one place since I was 7. Maybe because it’s where we began our family. Maybe because it is the strength and love of the school community. Maybe it is the profound cultural and physical feeling of being home.
Our choice to move was based on wanting to advance my career and the desire to be closer to family for awhile. I am thrilled to be going back to school at a time when I feel confident in my experience as an independent school teacher, ready and open to learn from the experiences of others, and motivated to make a difference on a new level.
I’m settling into life here at the beginning of August, with just enough time left of summer to enjoy the calm before my program begins. I’ve spent time disconnected from my devices, played scrabble with my mom, and built train tracks. I’ve gotten a commuter bike set up with kid seat and explored the bike paths and playgrounds with my son. I’ve visited family, gone camping, and played outside.
I wrote this six word story some time ago and have always wanted to share it but never found the right context. Perhaps it is all the more appropriate, then, to share it in this time of transition, tension, growth, adventure, and change. Although I share my professional writing online or personal posts with friends, sharing poetry makes me feel quite vulnerable, so please be kind.