I flew to Seattle ten years ago on a dark rainy day with three suitcases. I moved into a tiny room in a very filthy townhouse shared with a number of housemates that I never really knew. I remember sitting on my mattress on the floor next to my suitcases watching the rain hit the window as I repeated to myself: “Okay. I’m here.”
This was the dramatic leap of faith into the post-college chapter of my life, and I questioned everything about it. I didn’t have a full-time job, and I didn’t know anyone in Seattle.
I struggled making connections during my first few years and obsessively worried about money. I wanted to hurry and grow up: make use of my education to get a good job, be passionate about my work, make decent money, have a nice home, have rich friendships, and get on with my life. Even as I got my first stable job and made some friends, I still felt like I wasn’t yet where I wanted to be, and like I was running out of time to prove myself.
I also assiduously tried to understand who I was and what I was experiencing: as a twentysomething, as a recent college grad who changed his mind about going to graduate school, as a recently out gay man, as a young professional, and as a transplant. I had so much to feel and say — I was eager for a roadmap to clearer times.
Little did I appreciate how young I really was, and how important that time was for my personal growth. I remember feeling scared and worried, but I understand now that being scared was an opportunity to prove my courage for change, and that change was possible.
Ten years later, I have a husband, a house, a stable job, and a community of great friends. I’m fitter than ever. I’m more risk averse. I write less. I run less. I cook more. I earn more. I feel more confident. I’m physically and mentally stronger. I’m more grounded in my values. I better understand what I want and need, and spend less time on what I don’t.
All of which is the result of these past ten storied years. Hindsight is a gift, and it takes time to earn it.
We want life to be certain but it just isn’t — ten years here has proved that again and again. I still don’t have a firm long-term plan, but I’ve expanded my capacity for change and the unexpected. The point isn’t to get better at finding answers, but rather at asking better questions to guide the peripatetic process of becoming and growing my soul.
Cheers to another decade of adventures, wherever they may lead.
