Late January in the year two thousand fourteen. Once again, I find myself sitting in a coffee shop in Bloomington, IL, reflecting on transition. Just a little ways down the page you can see the last time I sat, in this shop, and contemplated moving states and changing jobs, ‘round abouts May 2012.
Up until the second week of this month, I have been living
in eastern Pennsylvania and working on a small agricultural community. Up until
the second week of this month, if someone asked what I did, I’d tell them, “I’m
a farmer, and some other stuff on the side—working with folks with
developmental disabilities”. Definitely made me sound kind of interesting,
different. Now if posed that question, I’ll say, “I coordinate a graduate
program in community development at Illinois State University”. It’s definitely
fancier, and—for the first time in several years—neither ‘student’ nor
‘volunteer’ are applicable terms for describing my occupation. Soon my bank
account will be better situated for tackling my debts, and already my hands are
softening as callouses fade into memory.
I left Kimberton, PA and Camphill for Bloomington-Normal, IL
and the Stevenson Center, making the switch from community oriented
agriculture/care-giving to community development/education focused
administration. Left the sorta rural countryside for these little twin cities.
Packed up my little bedroom in a twelve-person home and unpacked in a one-bedroom
apartment of my own. Traded in my patched up jeans and flannel work gear for
business casual slacks and button-downs. A five-minute each way walking commute
turned into an hour-long mix of hoofing and busing it (hopefully soon to
converted into a twenty-minute bike ride). Left behind a solid group of friends
and pseudo-family for an as-of-yet undefined social landscape. My new
co-workers are great, and I certainly have some friends among the faculty/staff
here at ISU, but not quite to the point of a regular hey-let’s-kick-it-Saturday-night kind of friend you know? That’ll
come, no doubt, but currently still in the midst of that transition.
Heading into this move, I was in better shape than I’d been
for quite some time. Went through a break up over the summer, which left a big
void. The relationship had been a major driving force in my move to PA, and I
think that fact made staying in Kimberton a challenge. I wouldn’t arbitrarily
live far from family. Illinois isn’t, in practical terms, that much closer to Idaho, but I’m here with more personal drive,
which helps. Anyhow, I left the Village feeling very supported and
appreciated—very solid closure. Spent some really quality time with friends,
said my good-byes, boarded the train, and twenty-seven hours later pulled into Normal.
Being back here has been surreal in some ways, gratifying in
others, challenging in a few (getting a driver’s license has been obscenely difficult), and overall
positive. I love being in
control of my food. Though I was fed incredibly well in Kimberton, cooking for
myself is probably the best thing, most joyful part of my world right now.
Reconnecting with friends here is a close second, and if I could spend more
time doing so, it would probably at least tie cooking. Having a place of my own
is pretty stellar, too. It’s getting fairly settled, and the process is delightful.
Thinking about the approaching growing season and how I’ll plug into the local
agriculture scene is similarly a delight.
I need some friends to hang with, and a kitchen table.
Separately. Not the two together, but each individually. Though, bringing the
two together is certainly a well-worn recipe for fun. Need to get the bike
rolling again, too. Commuting via bus has its benefits, for sure, but I want
more freedom.
Freedom! That’s the emotion. Following the offer for this
job and, even more so, an amazing New Year’s vacation with friends from
Micronesia, I’ve felt freer than maybe any other time in my life. Not just
relieved of obligation but capable,
fiercely capable. I can do stuff. I can make my life what I want it to be. I can
attract a woman! Ha, well… we’ll see about that last part. Point is, that void
I’d felt in PA carried along with it a certain dragging quality. I was so
damned tired. Hanging out with
friends, for the first time in my life, I had trouble keeping my eyes open.
Literally. Even after the end of peak growing season—June through August,
abouts—I didn’t seem to have the energy I’m used to having. Knowing I had the
next step prepared and then being holistically reinvigorated by the amazing
spirit and inexpressibly deep friendships of Team Chuuk, led to a profound
change coming over me. No more drooping eyelids, no more longing for bed when
hanging out with friends at night. The fire is back!
It’s so damn cold in the Midwest today, the University
closed down. So, I’m off work and figured this a good opportunity for an
update. Not sure if they’ll ever get more frequent than the twice a year deal I
seem to have going on now, but hey, it’s something. Certainly is keeping track
of the travels.
A Traveling Porter continues into uncharted territory of financial
stability, professionalism, and adulthood. Thanks for following along.
