November 17, 2019: Ecoduction
I come from the marshes that line the gap between the mouth of the Merrimac River and the barrier of Plum Island. I feel the silt and sand in between my toes as wade through the hollow, stiff marsh grasses with their razor sharp edges. I come from the salty air that blows up the street to my childhood home, and the wild chive bushes that grew along the side of the house even though no one knew who planted them there.
I come from the mint-green mosses that cover the rocks on Mooselookmeguntic Lake in the height of summer. I feel the damp cloth in my hands as I do dishes for 17 people with a cousin or an aunt or a friend. I sit on the carefully crafted wooden structures built by my ancestors.
Where have I taken myself? I remember being 11 years old and visiting New York City for the first time. I remember skipping down a staircase into a cramped basement dance studio where Luigi, a grandfather of Jazz dance, showed us how to hold our arms and tilt our heads in a way that made me feel regal, and strong, and grown up. I remember looking down the tree-lined streets of Chelsea and imagining myself in one of the historic brick homes. I came alive with the creative spirit and buzz of the vast different-ness of every person on the street.
When I think about Brooklyn, I think about collisions and contrast. 5 years of slowly turning new neighborhoods, streets, parks, benches, restaurants, trees, into homes, places of respite and connection. I think about biking endless loops around the park and feeling an exhilarating breeze in my face as I pass family barbeques, and drum circles, and soccer games, and birthday parties - all of life’s key events, outside, shared.
Why have I taken myself away from Brooklyn? What parts of myself needed more space to grow? I came from a feeling of monotony, of scarcity, of searching. A longing for space and time to recalibrate, look inward, rebalance. In this new place, Ghent, I have and continue to find so many of those things. I am loving and valuing the goldenrods, and the sumac trees, and the rolling hills that remind me of the Merrimac Valley. The cold fresh air that greeted me on so many early morning dog walks with my father. The smallness that ensures that you don’t fall through the cracks.
What am I choosing for myself now? I want to be choosing balance. I am looking to find integration of all the pieces of my humanity - the child that grew up with vast and wild pine trees above her head, with the curious adult who loves going to see a film in a crowded movie theater, or be the worst person in a dance class because everyone around me is working and striving to be professional, to make something, to be fully themselves in their bodies. I am feeling a growing strength that there is room for me to fully embrace and love New York state in all it’s wholeness, and that in turn, will help me to be more whole.