Transitioning is hectic. It isn’t just the fact that I uprooted from my home away from home in Columbus and shuffled back into the hustle and bustle of life with my parents. It’s not simply because I miss my life-long dance partners from my graduating class more than life itself. The weight doesn’t fall on the sheer fact that there is no roadmap for starting my dance career, or the fact that I feel like I’ve been thrown into the deep end. The whirlwind of life moving on, despite my fears and reservations, definitely plays a big role in the craziness. Two points for being home for almost a month and still living out of every single box, RubberMaid container and suitcase I brought home for sure.
Transitioning is hectic.
I’m looking at the beautiful picture of us from our senior lock-in as I type this (the featured image from my letter to my graduating class). It’s really hitting me hard right now that life isn’t about dancing with these beautiful faces in Sullivant Hall anymore. It’s not about learning from teachers and completing assignments. It’s not about fulfilling requirements. I’m looking at this picture and it’s actually starting to hurt for the first time. That chapter from my life is over and we are off on our next adventures.
I can’t get over how much love is in this picture. I can feel it as if I’m still there posing.
July has come to a close, and life hasn’t stopped. The universe doesn’t give a courtesy to those of us just trying to figure it out. The world keeps spinning, everyone around us keeps going and we have to keep moving forward. It’s a slow process—moving forward, without knowing where you’re going—but every bit of progress should be celebrated.
It doesn’t feel like anything is settling. I seem to be moving in slow motion as the world around me revolves at hyper-speed. Days and weeks have been running together ever since I got home, and that is partially due to the loss of my grandmother. But like I said, the universe doesn’t give us a break and life keeps going. I’m pushing through, trying to find my footing.
Trying to figure out what I want.
In the midst of this chaotic transition, I’ve lost the words my heart so desperately needs to speak. I went from feeling so deep in my purpose to forgetting what my purpose is. How do I fit into this world without the comfort of Sullivant Hall, Ohio State and the education system as a whole? Who am I, without the comfort of my alma mater? Who do I want to be?
Post-grad (the latest buzzword of my life) is me running through a maze of hallways, trying to open locked doors, having doors slammed in my face and looking for someone to follow; even though I know I am on this journey alone. Everywhere I turn there’s a new funhouse mirror making me question who I am to myself and to the world. Sometimes, there are weights on my legs as I try to sprint with all my might. Other times there’s a gust of wind blowing me through when I’m trying so desperately to stand still.
I don’t know what my life is supposed to look like right now. I don’t know what my life is going to look like within the next month. Honestly, I don’t know much of anything. It feels like I’ve been dropped off on a new planet in the middle of a crisis. I’m just standing around watching aliens do their thing thinking, “What the f—…”
But, I am trying. I try every single day.
It’s easy to want to lay in bed and wait for the life that I want to arrive on its own. It’s easy to want to lay in bed and wait for a sign, or “the answers” to everything I don’t know. It’s easy to prefer imagining the life I want instead of creating it.
Hm. It feels good to say that I haven’t be settling for easy.
For now, I’m doing freelance video editing work and writing regularly for my writing residency. I’m spending next week in LA with my friends to relax and have fun somewhere new. In September, I will start my work/study position at Ruth Page Center for the Arts. I’m still looking for a job that fits me and fills me and I’m getting over another audition rejection, but I just received the title for my new truck, an ’04 RAV4 named Angel, in the mail.
Transitioning is hectic, but I’m just rolling with the punches.