A transition

Reflecting on my day, it was very long, strenuous, and displacing.  As graduation approaches, I fear that I may not find a job come October, once my internship has ended.  All I wish to recount from this long day is the steam sticking to the windows of my office building from the heat of a Nashville summer.  The building isn’t truly mine; I’m just interning.  I just claim ownership for now.  It is a place I feel at home and welcomed.

With a recent move to the east side of Nashville, my life has been uprooted and replanted.  It is odd to make such as comparison, though. Comparing my transitory moments to the repotting techniques of a gardener seems both fitting and misplaced.

The more cautious side of me hesitates at such a harsh and brutal uprooting; I was happy where I was.  The shock will surely kill my mind screams! But in the back of my mind I know that if taken care of properly, everything will turn out to be all right.

But as usual, impulse is overcome by reason. The nature of the object (my life in question) would be content, as is, but the brutal awakening of the transplant is room to grow.

Queue nurture. As I develop more ideas, experiencing, learning, and living I begin to expand.  I need more room.

As I was packing to move into my new house, my dad mused, “Well, first is was one trip in a van to get you moved into school, then it was two vans and a car to move you out of school, now it is a U-Haul trailer and a car.  Next, is going to be a moving truck, I guess. You sure do collect more things than you realize as you get older.”

My roots are thickening, further penetrating the soil and taking hold.  It is a wonderful feeling, this growing up.  I’m accepting it with every heartfelt laugh and tear, every new exposure and loss, and also, every mistake.  I take pride in those, however, hopefully I don’t have too many.  But by making mistakes I know I am living.   It means I’m learning something new, which for me is one of the most rewarding experiences.

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One thought on “A transition

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