It is chaotic spring in DC--days swinging between rain and sun, every surface you can touch covered in oak pollen, and every person I know overwhelmed by the happenings of life. Maybe this is what comes with approaching one's third decade on earth: realizing how often deep sadness is paired with deep gratitude. Realizing that the best and the worse never follow a plan.
& so I share laughter on a Virginia balcony, with family I never thought I'd see outside of Texas. I set yellow roses on a new grave.
& so one friend prepares for a christening. One prays for a brother.
& so we trade scotch for gin. We trade smoke for citrus.
& so the clippings and notes for a job ahead form a larger and larger pile of paper, poised to spill across my dining room. The job I leave is reduced to skeletal to-dos and cleaned-out folders.
& so I am more than ever sure that DC is where I want to be. And more than ever sure that if I had to follow someone, I would.
All of this is just to say: if you're hanging on for dear life, you're not the only one. I'll make a deal with you. Let's keep going.