Day Two Hundred & Forty-Seven

Independence Day: I truly am grateful for all the men and women, soldier and civilian, who fought over the course of US history to provide me with the freedoms I have. While there is a lot I would like to change out this country, I still cannot imagine being anything other than an American. And while this day is generally important in the National sense, I also find it really imperative to take time to consider my own independence.

*****

On July 4th, 2007, I started my journey towards what I thought it meant to be an "independent adult." I wanted to get the hell out of Midwest and start somewhere new. I thought it was necessary to move far away in order to try to "be a new me." A "me" who relied on no one else and could handle whatever came her way. I packed up my little car with all of my belongings and drove myself from Michigan to North Carolina. I stopped for the night half way between. I remember eating by myself at a restaurant for the very first time. I bought sparklers to mark the occasion. The rain was pouring down so hard outside that I couldn't go out there and light them, so I decided I'd celebrate in my room.

Of course the smoke detector went off as soon as I took this photo, but I remember feeling so "grown-up." Eating alone, staying in a hotel, moving all by myself, going where I knew no one, taking a leap of faith on a job, celebrating my own independence day.

Over that summer in Asheville, I learned that taking a job just to get away from somewhere wasn't the smartest idea. While I met great people and absolutely loved the city, my boss was a creep and the hours I worked were ridiculous. I had that feeling in my gut for 2 solid months that I wasn't in the right place. That I hadn't necessarily made a mistake moving there, but that I couldn't stay. Everyone around me kept saying: "You made a year commitment; anyone can handle something for a year; just stick it out; are you really going to move again?" But for maybe the first time in my life (at that point), I really tuned into what I knew was right for me and did what I swore I'd never do: I found a job in Chicago, repacked all my stuff, and moved again 4 months after moving down to NC.

The amazing thing for me at that time is that I didn't feel like a failure, like I couldn't hack it, or the need to listen to anyone else's opinions on what was "right" or "best." I knew what was best for me and I made the decisions. I swallowed some of my pride, envisioned a new future, and went for it. Independence for me during this stage was true independence. It was about me being free and able to do for myself.

*****

By July 4th, 2008, I had lived in Chicago for about 9 months and though there were rough points, I was amazed at how at home I felt there. I had made the most amazing group of friends. And it was a group of people who were so much more than friends- they were family.

I've had amazing friends over the course of my life. I have been blessed to know kind, intelligent, loving, fun people. But until that point, I'd never had a group of friends where things just ran smoothly. Where we got together weekly for dinner and games, went out to bars, celebrated holidays and birthdays, talked online, talked on the phone, moved in as roommates, moved out as roommates, dated new people, broke up with people, met lifelong partners, had fights, gave support, and loved one another in its most simple and complex form.

After spending those first 9 months in Chicago, I had learned that I didn't have to do everything alone. That there were trustworthy people out there, people who loved me and would help me at every step if they could. I learned that while independence was important, interdependence was just as great. I think this group of people taught me the beauty in receiving support, in accepting it wholly for the gift it was. 

*****

After about 21 months in Chicago, by July 4th, 2009, I had gone from working a barely paying AmeriCorps job to working for Corporate America. It wasn't my ideal job, but it paid me and eventually I settled in with my coworkers and bosses and started to really feel like an "adult." I could pay all my own bills, my own loans, groceries, insurance, car payments, dinners out, drinks with friends, could save money and buy things I wanted. I was pretty financially stable and was still loving my group of friends and my time in Chicago.

My family took a trip that year to Belize and we visited some Mayan ruins:

 The steps to get to the top of one of the buildings were incredibly steep and exhausting (especially in the heat), but we all climbed our way up and were treated to an incredible view. There's something for me about pushing my body to the limit physically that reminds me how tough I am mentally. When I push through and get to that "reward," I feel such a sense of accomplishment.

I think 2009 was about that very thing for me: accomplishment. That year I learned that if I trusted in the Universe, put in time and energy, trusted myself and others, pushed myself as far as I could, and took ownership of my life, I could accomplish whatever I wanted. My independence lesson that year was knowing that I could make it and I could make it alone or with the help of others, but it was my choice, and either way, it was going to work out.

*****

Taking that knowledge with me into the next year, I decided it was time to let go of the security of Chicago, the comfort of my friends, and the stability of my finances to go after my dreams. I once again packed up my life and moved to Denver, CO to start graduate school in social work (this time my mom and her bf helped me move!).

That Fourth of July (2010) marked the end of one era and phase in my life and I was off on another. It was amazing the difference I felt from that first independence day in 2007 when I needed to do everything by myself. I thought I had so much to prove. This time around, I welcomed and accepted help. I cried when I said goodbye. I told people how special they were to me and how much I would miss them. I savored having my mom coming along with me to help me establish my new life. Over those 3 years I had learned that life is complex and beautiful, that giving and receiving help were blessings, and that I continued to have the ability to choose the path I wanted to take in life. 

*****

My first year in Denver was wonderful. For sure it had its ups and downs, but it was such an exciting period. Living alone for the very first time. Being back in school was fantastic. My classmates were brilliant. My professors were brilliant. I loved writing papers, being intellectual, debating theories and policies, getting happy hour after classes, and getting to know new people. And I met really wonderful people. I think the best part of getting to develop new friendships (where 95% of them were through school) was that all the people were so very different, but we were united by the common love of people and wanting to make a change. I made a lot of singular friendships and became very close with a group of women as well. While it was all very different than that family friendship group in Chicago, it was also a fun, caring group.

By the time July 4th, 2011 rolled around, I had completed my first year of graduate school, had amazing friends, was spending the summer nannying and exploring Colorado, and was greatly loving living alone. At this time, independence to me could be summarized by a poem by Diane Seuss:

Song in my heart

If there's pee on the seat it's my pee,

battery's dead I killed it, canary at the bottom

of the cage I bury it, like God tromping the sky

in his undershirt carrying his brass spittoon,

raging and sobbing in his Hush Puppy house

slippers with the backs broke down, no Mrs.

God to make him reasonable as he gets out

the straight razor to slice the hair off his face,

using the Black Sea as a mirror when everyone

knows the Black Sea is a terrible mirror,

like God is a terrible simile for me but like

God with his mirror, I use it. 

*****

It's hard to believe another Fourth of July (2012) has rolled around and that it's been five years since I set out on that first "independent" Independence Day.  I can say for sure that these five years have not taken me anywhere I expected them to, nor has "independent, adult-life" been as easy as I always imagined it would be. But damn what an adventure it has been.

This past year has been an especially difficult one; one I am literally grateful I have survived. The past six months have had moments of sheer bliss and unfathomable sorrow, pure beauty (like sitting at the Grand Canyon at sunrise- see pic) and human ugliness, great accomplishment and total failure.

As I sit here, on my balcony one month before I move to a new place in Denver, I am trying to figure out what I've learned about independence this year. Maybe because it's all so fresh and I haven't had the distance like I have from the other years, it all seems a bit muddled.

What I do know I've learned is that I alone am responsible for my happiness; that whether people love me or hate, leave me or stay, I can be okay; that even if other people are upset with me or don't like something about me, I can survive it and still love myself; that I'm the only person who will always be here for me and I'm the only one I can truly count on; that my family comes in close second right behind me and are also most likely the only ones who will always love me; that friends come and go and that when they go, it doesn't mean they aren't wonderful people and the time you had together wasn't great, but that their time in your life is just over; that life is a adventure and even though individual moments can seem unmanageable, there's a whole life out there waiting.

Most importantly, perhaps, I've learned that my life is my responsibility, my decisions are mine, and that I am on a journey of learning how to love myself better, deeper, and with more compassion. This Independence Day, I want to celebrate the me I am in this very moment. Not who I was before, not who I'll be tomorrow, but who I am right now. A fallible, complex, strong, well-intentioned, growing, independent and interdependent individual.