I walked up Tumamoc Hill this morning with my oldest child’s teacher. Kiddo decided sleeping was better (obvs). It was originally organized as a “field trip” of sorts, an open invitation. A couple of parents RSVP’d; ultimately, I was the only one who showed up. So. Just myself and my kiddo’s teacher.
Sometimes saying yes means being the only one who shows up, and showing up anyway.
That gave us the chance to have some really great conversation, even as I was huffing and puffing up the hill.
On my way home I realized I felt good. I was a little bit high from the experience, actually.
Social situations tend to scare me, because I feel like I overshare and overwhelm people with just… myself. As an adult in this season of my life, I’m realizing that I learned to make myself smaller, and then forced myself to, so I wouldn’t be too much. I think that also means I’ve cauterized, neutered, and clipped parts of myself that might once have spread their wings.
This morning I didn’t do that. And it was fine. Better than fine.
Topics we touched on that lit a sparkle in me included buying a first home, the differences in the way of life between the U.S. and abroad, and relationships (specifically, spending solo time traveling and living). In the end, I felt affirmed and inspired in some of my recent “character development” (aka life choices).
First of all, I’ve been spinning thoughts in my head about my future and where I go from here. I’m currently a medical social worker, working in hospice. This is a role I actually resisted for a long time, trying on so many different hats instead.
The latest bright shiny thing has been the idea of going back to school for an RN. While exploring that, I found myself comparing a basic RN path with an MEPN path (Master’s Entry into the Profession of Nursing), the thought process being: well, if I’m going to go to school for nursing, I might as well go all-in. Right?
Next, I’ve been massively second-guessing buying my house. I want to say “home,” because a house is very different from a home, but that distinction is the gist of my feelings: it doesn’t feel like home. Just last night I was saying, with tears in my eyes, that I don’t even want to be there.
Then there’s this: I’m realizing that my quality of life isn’t necessarily a reflection of me. It’s a reflection of the psychosocial environment I exist in. Our culture (meaning the place, time, and context I’m in right now, the United States of America, 2026) is hard. It is not a socio-economically friendly place to be, and that isn’t on me.
We are in community
Somewhere on the way up, my kiddo’s teacher said, “We are in community.”
I keep coming back to that. So much of what I’ve been carrying, I’ve been carrying alone: the house that doesn’t feel like home, the career question I spin on at night, and the quiet belief that if things are hard, it must be my fault. But here was this person who didn’t have to show up for a field trip of one, walking the whole hill with me anyway. Listening to me overshare. Not flinching.
That’s community, I think. It’s the people who show up whether one person comes or twenty, and the place where you get to be a little bit too much.
Prior to the walk this morning I was reflecting on where I am and where I might go. I’ve been thinking long and hard about whether to use the skill set I currently have, one I’ve spent the majority of my life working toward and cultivating, or whether to pivot and pursue this bright shiny thing, with all the excitement and potential it brings.
I don’t have the answer yet. But I don’t have to figure it out alone.
a body that moves
Finally, I always find myself having a moment in my day where I’m grateful I have a body that moves, a body that does not just what I need it to do, but the things I want to do. When you work all day, every day with people who can’t do those things, it tends to change your perspective a little bit. I may have been huffing and puffing while kiddo’s athletic teacher (wearing a weighted vest, I might add) seemed much better off, but I did it. And I did better than my fears told me I would.
This morning my body carried me up the hill. Community carried me back down.
Categories: Life of YES, Living YES, outside of my comfort zone
