The silver lining is that the silence written in the last month of non-blogging will long serve as ample reminder to the events occurring in my offline life. You wouldn't believe the sum of the parts. When the best of the worst is literally getting a needle-full of steroids shot into the face nine times I'm best to leave it alone. Sad (and somewhat lame) to say, but ignoring my blog was one of the only things I could control.
Where my life as an individual has spun out in the last 5 weeks, I've been surrounded by a support system that's kept me afloat. It's true that blood is thicker than water, but there is no blood in this East Coast water. It's been heartening to watch the people I share space with help me rally--providing kind words, check-ins or emails of encouragement. I've grown closer to my roommate, to my home teachers, to those I serve on committee with. I've been privy to a sense of community with the LDS members in Boston as I've helped clean both the Temple and our Stake Center and committed myself to more frequently attending and serving in the Temple. I was able to attend the sealing of a dear friend and enjoy reuniting with so many good friends. The culture of my office is shifting to one I genuinely look forward to entering each day even with major changes afoot. Weekends have been spent with friends at Martha's Vineyard, at the beach, attending concerts, going dancing, and playing games. To put it mildly, I've been busy.
You may not know this, but I spend a lot of time alone. I don't mind it one bit--in fact I probably enjoy it too much. That's the truth and I've copped to always being honest. It's not that I'm out to prove my independence, I just don't mind being by myself. As cliched as it sounds, I've learned so very much about myself this last month. It hasn't been easy or kind but who doesn't have patches of black ice surprise them every now and then? However, looking at my interactions with the people around me this month, I find them extraordinary. Individually, I would have failed. Collectively, I'm more than treading water--I'm making my way upstream again.
There are innumerable lessons to draw from the experience I'm dancing around writing about--both good and bad--but I still feel 100 percent confident in my decision to stay in Boston. I have no where else to go nor do I want to go any where else.
And that's a good life indeed.