I’ve recently tried compiling a photobook that encompasses my four years here in Europe. It feels frustrating to admit that everyone, aside from immediate family, that is featured in this book, I’m no longer in contact with. I am on the eve of starting a long road cycle towards San Sebastián from Germany, and these constant realizations that so many relationships, platonic or not, I’ve failed to maintain is cutting deeply. This photobook is only for me. It’s never going to see the light of day with my additions of journal entries, blog posts, pieces of text conversations to really bring the scrapbook experience full circle. But despite the fact that it’s only for me, I want to make sure I’m encapsulating the experiences in the ‘right’ way. I don’t want to recount a trip or experience with the soured perspective that we don’t talk anymore. Simultaneously, I’m realizing whatever I am feeling right now, in this moment, is the truth for me. It’s ok to memorialize that truth in writing, even if feelings change down the road.
I see this so similarly to how I see tattoos. I think one moment this new drawing, saying, or design can mean the world and it MUST go on my skin and a few years later, I may never choose to get the same thing permanently displayed on me. But the beauty of this art is it’s a form of self-expression that captures who are you in one moment in time. There’s no pressure (in my opinion) to live that version of myself to the end of my skin’s existence, but instead creates a kind of invitation to keep exploring. This could (but doesn’t have to) include more tattoos – they’re simply the vehicle some use to describe pieces of their story.
As I continue to churn through memories of the last four years, I have a lot of shame that arises. I have so many days I wish I could correct, adjust, be more patient, empathetic, or stronger in the moment. What better way to allow myself to feel, accept, and display some valuable self-empathy to the old versions of me. This reflection gives me a better direction in the ways I am excited to improve. Leaning heavily on my values of gratitude, learning, exploration, courage, and consistency will carry me through this transition period – both on the bike journey over the next 14 days and the move to Alabama. I’d like to do a better job of building and maintaining a community as I move forward, I so often let myself become isolated within individual relationships, so I’m thankful I’m in a spot I can take a step back. I scoffed as I typed “thankful”, because just about everyday I ache for companionship of any kind, dog included, but to be alive and pedaling on a bike is a kind of privilege I’m lucky to have. So here’s to a future of croissants and cappuccinos bookended with some strong miles under the legs.
