A few months ago, I sent a text to my boyfriend that said, “I kind of feel like change is the theme to life this year. I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, I smell it in the air.” While tongue in cheek in my delivery, I meant the message sincerely: 2015 has presented me with a lot of new changes in life. Leaving school, starting a new job, moving, developing a new relationship: all of these events and actions have challenged me, motivated me, and changed my overall approach to life.
Screen shot of our text conversation with a poignant shot of Joseph Birdsong
In May, I decided to leave graduate school after three years of work. In that time, I acquired a Master’s degree, but the process has begun to wear on me, and I needed time away, and time to evaluate my situation. The move was scary–I have never not been in school since I was a child–but necessary. So entrenched in school for so long, I developed a form of tunnel vision: a determined and exhaustive push in one central direction that prevented me from looking around and assessing my position and sense of of self. While I pursued one of my biggest intellectual passions, my mind and body grew weary and worn, and I knew that without some difference, some diversions in the road, I would lose the drive.
With a new path set, other changes became the new order. I left my apartment of two years, said a hearty “see you soon” to my roommate, and returned home. Since my life has only really developed within the space of 30 miles in diameter, the move was not far, but it was still significant. I moved further from central Austin and back to the north, the outskirts in the suburbs. I was excited to spend more time with my dogs and to see my mom and sister more regularly, though I knew a new plan and a new job was in order.
For most of the summer, I was unsuccessful in finding a new position somewhere, but by August, I landed a job at a major retailer. The job definitely presented a new pace to work and life: I was on my feet much more, talking to strangers regularly, stocking, and helping out in a variety of tasks. It took some time to feel comfortable and part of the group, but I was proud of myself for taking the initiative and getting to work. While the opportunity to use my written and creative skills was missing, my communication skills were put to good use as I talked to coworkers and customers. I felt an ease and charge in myself that I never quite utilized before.
I do miss my creative life. I’m still in a state of finding a great fit for myself, taking time to develop my voice and style, using my personal skills to craft a more “me” career. As my closest friends know, I enjoy change, but hate transitions: the initial stages in any new project, especially before they even begin, dominate my mind, etching out a large section to self-doubt, criticism, and uncertainty. I overthink things before I do them, essentially psyching myself out. But when things do begin to move, to start, I grow into the new scenarios and tasks, finding out the protocols and best strategies to work efficiently. Transitions are exhausting, but also a part of life, and working through them, I know that the change will offer something different, something new.
But the most momentous change has been my new relationship, which began at the tail end of March and the beginning of April. For most of Winter 2014 and Spring 2015, I had taken a long break from social media and online dating. In that time, I worked out regularly, wrote, read, and drew more, devoting those few months to personal development and work. It was another necessity, but by March, I knew I could return on the scene with new focus. And the rewards were unexpected.
I met my boyfriend online. We began chatting on and off for a week or two before making plans to meet one night at one of my favorite pizza places, Salvation Pizza. We sat on the porch in the not quite comforting sun and delved into our stories and our interests. We both love pop music and pop culture, artists like Warhol, history, movies, and talking ad nauseum about links and connections to all of these things and their ramifications and importance. Conversation flowed so smoothly that time was shorn away, the sun had thankfully faded, and the restaurant had closed well before we would stop. By midnight, still on the porch, the only two souls out in the night and street lights, we started to watch Joseph Birdsong videos for nearly an hour, a beautiful sign that things were going overwhelming well. We said goodbye around 1 AM, with plans to see each other again soon.
And for more than 5 months, we continue to make plans together, now as a pair more often than not. We see each other often during our working and non-working hours. He lets me drift from bookstore to bookstore regularly with no qualms. We share me meals, venture out to the same few locales that we call ours, and spend time with friends. We’ve shared so much of ourselves with each other, developing a mutual respect and trust for the other, and enjoying the splendors and mischiefs of fresh new compatriots. I have never had a relationship before, and that my first has gone so well, so wonderfully, so effortlessly, I would be hard pressed to desire anything more than more time and space for us together.
Above the struggles of transitioning and forging a new path, I feel happy with my life right now. I can only hope that more wonderful things continue to happen for me and the dude, and that we find our future together pursuing what we love to do and think. I can’t complain too much. And in less than a week, six months will have passed, and I think that I will look back with a sense of awe at where I’ve gone in such a short time without really going anywhere at all.
David J Rants Away 