There & back Again: how I wandered into my own second chapter

April 10, 2022


There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something.
You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always
quite the something you were after.” - J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit

Some travel to find themselves while others wander simply because they must; and some of us happen upon both at once.

Back in January as I was perusing Airbnb and allowing myself to get carried off in dreamy clouds of travel grandeur, a charming little listing in Murfreesboro, TN caught my eye: a hobbit hole. There is a certain kind of magic that comes from being immersed in nature, even more from being immersed in a story.

This small hut made of mud sat quietly in the woods as part of large property shared with a wedding venue. The photos looked charming, cozy, and inviting. I had been mulling over the idea of a solo trip for a few weeks and wanted to plan something for the near future. April seemed like the perfect time to go: the divorce would be well past final, I’d be hopefully coming into my own a little more, and it would be spring. The promise of warm weather is always strong bait for me. However, Tennessee springs are anything but predictable. (Spoiler alert: it was most definitely not warm. I pretended it was anyway.) 

Hunting & Becoming: Reflections on the past year

January 26, 2022

The Huntress

There’s been a lot of talk lately
about arrows and targets and making your mark

with the kind of badassery born from a bow & arrow

but I’m no Robin Hood, just a modern day Artemis 
in a pair of stiletto boots, with a quiver full of truth

a wildfire ripping through wildflowers

the storm surge in a hurricane

whiplash in a crown

mismanaged mischief always afoot

unconcerned with the sound a bullseye makes or my arrow’s precision 

but ever-insatiable for the thrill of the hunt

and what may emerge

from the edge of the woods

Right now, sitting at my desk in the early morning hours before the work day, I am reading over notes on my phone from January 2021. About a year ago, I was only just beginning my journey. Reading through what I had written, I have so much gratitude for that girl  - the girl who kept going. The girl who could taste possibility at the back of her throat like pomegranate seeds, knowing she has always been, in a sense, a modern day Persephone waiting for her eternal spring. A girl who just wanted the best this world had to offer because she felt its potential in her bones, to give that to herself first so she could return that light back to others. She wrote about the kind of days that tasted of bitterness, sobbing in the parked car in the garage, of her daughter asking her, "Mommy, why are you crying?" She wrote about how she did not feel she was enough - she was not enough for her daughter, she was not enough for her marriage, she was not enough for herself.

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