Re-Orientation to Self

“to live in this world

you must be able

to do three things

to love what is mortal;

to hold it

against your bones knowing

your own life depends on it;

and, when the time comes to let it go,

to let it go”

― Mary Oliver

I am in the airport in Sydney waiting to board my flight home. I have been writing a lot, but not the kind of content I wish to share on a blog. I am endlessly grateful for idle time to sit and work through some of the bigger feelings bopping around my head. My mind wants to walk around in nature, greeting the flowers and trees like old friends, sometimes in the company of friends. Without any lovers present to rile me up with mundane dramas, my thoughts have been occupied with the desire for awe and beauty and how to cultivate that in the every day. I want to find a lover who is as determined and curious as I am.

This morning I had a lovely uber ride with a man named Andrew who spent his youth working in coorporate merchandising for touring bands, based in San Francisco. His uber placard was an LGBTQIA+ flag in the shape of a heart, and something about him glowed. We had a lovely conversation about my shop, GenZ work ethics, and his Facebook groups on consciousness and expansion for men! I have finally come to a place where when I speak of my shop, it brings me joy. Although there is a long way for society as a whole to build better systems to support small business, I find it unbelievable to be in a community that so ardently supports my work, enough so to keep the doors open.

I have more clarity around the work I want to gear myself towards: making time for my art, writing about love and travel, and creating a community space where creatives can gather over conversation, food and movement. I want to call a place home, and to know the flowers and trees by name. I want to nurture relationships with people who are equally invested, want to adventure, and are able to hold space for the lulls of darkness that life presents us. I want to be able to gently let space find it’s way between me and the relationships that do not carry me.

I have reinstated my solitude and the delight I find in my aloneness. I recognize how important it is to keep those whose view of you rings true for you close, and to love them with all of your heart. They are the ones who will be able to hold a mirror up for you, to remind you of who you are and will be on the other side of grief, and who will just as easily let it go when you tell them you are ready to celebrate.

Long story short, this is the first trip I have booked around my own learning. I flew to Tassie for a workshop in deep ecology, and gave myself time to let it all sink in. The people down here met me initially at a time where I was still wild, full of hope, curiosity and a deep desire to play. I find that the single most attractive trait to me in friendship and romance alike, is curiosity. The knowledge of how much there is left to know, about the world and ourselves. My friends are deep, and it is an honor to be loved by them.

I am excited to come home in this place of stillness. It feels important to maintain this sense of space for my animal body to be able to move and rest and wander.  I look forward to sitting with my friends back home and hearing their stories from a place of calm. I have time for other people again, after giving it to myself. Perhaps the greatest tragedy of society in America, is how often things are seen as valuable solely based on their profit. Rest is a resistance (thank you Tricia Hersey) and we can only be present with others as much as we are with ourselves. I, my most Hannah-self, where the mountains meet the sea and the wild is in tact.

I have been well loved, well fed, and I am ready to get home to my own bed. Thank you for following along.