The Quiet Year

This past year in Bowling Green has been a quiet one.  Though I'm not one to party, or to constantly seek out entertainment, my life in Tucson was considerably, and usually satisfactorily, busy, both socially and with work.  With the multiple jobs I had in Tucson, my mind did not have as many opportunities to be quiet, and I could always rustle up time with friends when I wanted to.  Despite some instances of an unquiet mind due to anxieties of health and employment, overall the quiet life in Ohio has suited me well.

This is not to say I want another year quite like I had this past year.  While being a sub teacher left my time outside of the school day blissfully free, I demand more from work long-term. I seek a career that is creatively and intellectually rewarding and challenging, in addition to having a steady, positive, and collaborative work environment.  Fortunately, in August I begin a program that will, I believe, provide these qualities for the next four years and beyond.  Though the demands of a doctoral program will provide the structure and stimulation I desire, come this fall when the visceral reality of academia sets in, those vacuous afternoon and weekend hours when I subbed will be missed.

With the freedom of time and mind, I was able to throw myself in to the fun of academic coursework, namely  the gothic literature class I took in the fall.  Never before had I been such a good student, primarily because I'm at a point in my life where the social education of school does not factor in to my expectations of school.  Not that I don't seek relationships from fellow students, but the time and effort needed to foster these relationships doesn't hold the same urgency as it did when I was younger.  There also, quite simply, weren't as many social distraction.

The issue of friendships has, I'll admit, been a mental occupation for the duration of this quiet year.  Over the past eleven months I've begun friendships that briefly flared only to sputter and fade. I've attempted friendships that never purchased. Javier and I have made friends with other couples and occasionally we make dinner for one another, or go out for drinks.  We've made acquaintances (all with librarians, it seems) that hover on the edge of what could be deeper friendships, but haven't been pushed past the dinner-party-invite line, and maybe never will.  For someone who thrives on deep relationships with friends, I haven't found a "bestie" yet, a woman who I don't have to think twice before I call her for coffee, a walk, or a drink.  Sometimes this lack of an intimate friendship, or even the lack of an immediate and easy group of friends, has bothered me, but mostly, and much to my surprise, it hasn't.  I have drawn the perimeter of my energies inward, I have focused my love on my husband and dog, and myself, I suppose. I continue to foster my relationships with friends and family scattered elsewhere by writing letters, and making more phone calls, and using Skype.  Though a year without intimate friendships was fine for the time, it will be difficult to continue in this trajectory. After returning from Tucson where I indulged in the experience of so many friends at our wedding, and also in the easy manner of gathering with various groups of friends that live in Tucson after the wedding, the contrast to my social life in Bowling Green was abrupt, if not stark.    

During this quiet year, and especially during this even quieter summer, I have had more time to think, to read, to write creatively, to take ambling walks, to experiment with cooking and baking, and to indulge in watching movies and television shows. I've had more time to suss out what I want in life, and to make steps towards securing it. I've had time to address the panic-inducing fear of flying I developed two years ago, and I'm glad to say I've made great strides with this as even the thought of a plane no longer brings me to tears.  I've reconnected with old friends who live in the area, and explored cities and regional landmarks. This quiet year has been remarkably self-indulgent in some aspects, and I am privileged to have the time and resources to do so often what I please.  

It  is difficult for me to reconcile that I may be in Bowling Green for a very long time.  While I am thrilled with the home Javier and I have created, and I believe the town to be (mostly) lovely, I am still surprised and usually dismayed to find myself surrounded by cornfields, farm houses and pre-fab buildings when we drive out of town on the Dixie Highway.  Though I resist the idea of raising children and retiring here, it may be a very real thing and, when I push myself to truly meditate on the all the variables of life, I would be extremely fortunate to spend my life with my family in a quiet piece of Northwest Ohio.