The last hurrah
- ctedfor
- Jun 2, 2022
- 6 min read
Hello, beloveds!
How are you? It’s been a moment, hasn’t it? I’ve been home for nearly a month and feel like I have so much to say, so much to do, and even more to process. How does one process 4 months in Europe when “normal” life—whatever that means—feels like it requires enough energy and attention and processing on its own?
I’ve been writing this post for what feels like forever—in my head, in my journal, in my phone notes, in various Word documents, and scraps of paper I use as bookmarks. At this point, I just need to get some thoughts out, and call it a day.
To keep things in order and get this off my chest, I believe there were three weeks of trips from my study abroad adventures I have yet to catch you up on: Belgium, Denmark, and Italy. I now give you a brief overview of each of those travels.
March 23-26: Belgium time, baby! I spent one day in Ghent, one day in Bruges, half of a day in Brussels, and ate enough chocolate, waffles, and French fries to last a lifetime—although I will certainly be eating plenty of those for the rest of my days. Can we take a moment and realize that French fries are actually from BELGIUM? And France gets all the credit!! During WWI American soldiers were stationed in Belgium, discovering locals frying up sliced potatoes as they did their fish. Some of the Belgian population speaks French—while another percentage speaks various dialects of Dutch and a smaller percentage speaks German—so, thrown off by the language, the American soldiers attributed the tasty fried dish to the French. I’ll give them some grace; I’m not the best at geography either.
I’m going to be lazy and link my Instagram posts with the photos from each place, so I don’t have to attach them: https://www.instagram.com/p/CbnCznKMlT7/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
April 1-3: Copenhagen, Denmark!! Freezing and beautiful and a place unlike anywhere else I visited. Everything just felt sustainable here? Like somehow just by breathing the air in Copenhagen I felt like I was helping fight global warming. Highlights include, but are not limited to: the underwhelming but still cool to see, Little Mermaid statue, our amazing tour guide for our free walking tour, the most amazing cheesecake I’ve ever tasted from Bertels Salon, a beautiful view from The Round Tower, a peaceful stroll through Frederiksburg Gardens, a fascinating excursion through the autonomous, anarchist, hippie commune of Christiana, and, of course, the most magnificent Reffen Food Hall where you will leave with an empty wallet and a very full belly.
April 7-10: Mamma Mia, Italia! This weekend I visited Rome and got to see one of my best friends from my hometown who was studying there. I ate alllll the pasta and did all the touristy things possible in one weekend from the Vatican Museums and Sistine Chapel to the Colosseum, to the Romam Forum and Palantine Hill, to the Trevi Fountain and Piazza Navona, to a walk by the Pantheon, and even a cheeky wine tour outside of the city in a town called Frascati. We had great weather and made great memories, and I am only sad because I know any pasta I eat in the U.S. is simply incomparable. Not to mention, the gelato? Come on! Giolitti, specifically, is a MUST for the best gelato and pastries of your life (thanks, Charlie!).
Lastly, in my latest email, I mentioned that I was in Lisbon, Portugal, which I LOVED, and afterward visited Porto, Portugal, which I also loved. Portugal might’ve just been my favorite country I visited, and I only saw two cities! Portugal FTW!
I guess in writing this, I really needed closure—that the studying abroad chapter in my life has come to a close and now I’m home, entering back into a world which was still turning while I was away. It feels like I have hardly begun to process the last 4-5 months but that I have a long road of that ahead of me.
While abroad, I came to reckon with some past experiences that had greater psychophysiological effects than I realized, as I came to better understand the reality of those situations. It became increasingly difficult to tend myself and listen to “the mother” inside me, as my friend Jewels referenced from Sue Mink Kidd’s The Secret Life of Bees, while being pulled every which way across the Atlantic Ocean with no stable, founded support system. When I got quiet and listened to the mothering, still, soft voice inside me, I felt it beckoning me home. And in classic Cate manner, I thought of a Mary Oliver poem which confirmed what I knew to be true:
One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice– though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. “Mend my life!” each voice cried. But you didn’t stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations, though their melancholy was terrible. It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones. But little by little, as you left their voices behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, determined to do the only thing you could do– determined to save the only life you could save.
—“The Journey”
So, I packed my things and left Europe a week early. After many unsuccessful attempts to console myself while over 4,000 miles from home, it got to the point where I knew what I had to do, determined to save the only life I could save.
Believe me, it was no easy thing to leave early. It felt like ripping off one of those super sticky waterproof band aids from a leg I haven’t shaved in six months. Ouch! But really, so often we keep putting band aids over wounds thinking it is going to help them heal, when in fact, the band aid is locking in moisture, making it harder for the wound to dry out and recover and puts them at greater risk of bacteria growth and thus infection. Ouch again! Of course, we need band aids right at the occurrence of the wound to protect it in its most vulnerable state and prevent further harm. But, once we’ve come back down to earth, gotten our footing, and found our breath, even as uncomfortable as it might feel, because the leg hair has gotten a bit out of hand, and the adhesive has not gotten any weaker, it’s time to rip it off. To listen to the voice inside you—even though it’s so scary!—to open up and let the light in. To heal. Even if it’s for the first time, now is the perfect time to begin.
A song, and really the whole record it’s from, that carried me through some of my worst bouts with anxiety in high school is from singer-songwriter Steffany Gretzinger called “I Spoke Up”:
Everyone knows that I was the good girl
I did my best to make everyone happy with me
But then I found out that
It was impossible to please the whole crowd
So I spoke and I spoke out
I learned that love don’t hold its tongue
And passion doesn’t bow to what they think
It’s you and me
Sometimes it’s painful to be brave
To look fear in the face
And know your name
To find your strength
WOW. OK, let’s have a moment for that one!
Being brave is not hushing what is crying to be heard just to get through or appease the people around you. Being brave is mustering up the courage to get still and quiet and listen to the hurt, draw close to the pain, to let it be felt, to let someone know, and to seek help if you need it, regardless of the response, regardless of if it will gain you applause. And no, listening to Phoebe Bridgers does not qualify as going to therapy!! It will require sacrifice(s) and tough conversations, but we are so worth it! Over and over and over again—we are worthy! Of love, of rest, of care, of joy, of celebration, of life.
It has not gotten any easier since being home, I’m just becoming braver and comforted by the closer proximity to the resources which are best able to help me. And I am so hopeful that Love has always been patient and kind and always will be. We are beloved and becoming, and this is just the beginning<3
Oh also, Happy Pride, lovelies! You are seen and known and so beautifully and wonderfully made exactly as you are. It’s hard to believe that the tragic, horrific Orlando nightclub shooting was nearly 6 years ago. Lin-Manuel Miranda said it best at the 2016 Tony Awards, honoring the lives lost too soon: “We live through times when hate and fear seem stronger. We rise and fall and light from dying embers, remembrances that hope and love last longer. And love is love is love is love is love is love is love, and love cannot be killed or swept aside…” “… now fill the world with music, love, and pride.” Let's!
… but the greatest of these is love.
Here’s to loving ourselves so that we are best able to love the big, wide, crazy world before us. We need it. And the world needs it, by golly.
I am so grateful you’re alive. I’m with you and for you! From the bottom of my heart.
Yours truly and all my freest love,
Cate
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