GETTING READY FOR THE END

you’re leaving soon, how do you feel?

It’s funny how clarity comes into your life just as soon as you start looking for it. Talking to my mom today, after going at this blog post a couple different ways, I had a moment of clarity in something we were discussing. She asked me how I was feeling about leaving. If I was getting sad yet. At one point we talked about being sad, being nostalgic for moments that are over. For a past that isn’t my present anymore. I hadn’t realized it applied to so much of my life. So much of what I’ll miss, things I’ll look back on and smile about, things that will make me ache, have come and gone. They’re memories I’ve been piling up and keeping polished like bright and shiny relics. Incredible sunsets that made my heart burst. My dancing buddy who moved away almost a year ago. Cackling along with a room full of Ticos as we celebrated a completed course. Knowing when it’s time to go isn’t always an easy instinct to follow. There are so many ways my heart is hurting from this change, but so many other ways that I feel so full, so light, and so confident. I know I made the right decision when I decided to come here more than 2 years ago. Just like I know I’m making the right decision in saying goodbye now.

I’ve been trying to look at everything lately through a “what I’ll miss” lens. To be honest, it’s hard.

I think when you get ready to leave a place, every little inconvenience or annoyance comes into hyperfocus. It’s natural, and I’m trying to fight the feeling as much as I can. The excitement for what comes next, the weight of leaving this place, the urgency to do as much as I can and spend as much time as possible with my friends is all mingling together into this crazy soup of anxious energy. As excited as I am for this next venture, I owe Costa Rica pregnant pauses of presence, perception, and reflection. This place has been an entire novel in the series of my life. It’s this magical, foreign place that lives in the minds of so many of you. Things that have become everyday and mundane for me, and I’ve taken for granted simply through the passing of the days and the routine nature of life. The wooden walls of my apartment. The corner store at the bottom of the hill. The bus ride to and from Heredia for work. As I’ve lived and grown here, this place has taken shape for a lot of you. In a lot of ways, we share it, and I love that. I love when my family FaceTimes me and recognizes my surroundings — “oh I know that couch! I know exactly where you are, it all makes sense to me!”—since they’ve come to visit. The familiarity of this place transcends just the last two years. In a lot of ways, it’s a second home to me. I feel like I know it inside and out. When I fly in, there’s a certain smell that hangs in the air that brings me back to when I was six. I’ve experienced it every time I’ve come back to this place. And of course, there are always things to discover. There are little mysteries and beauties about Fort Myers that I’m still discovering now, and I’ve spent most of my life there. I’ve always felt a deep connection to this place. And now, with a treasure trove of memories packed to the brim, I’m saying caio for now.

I’m so pleased and grateful that you guys have been on this journey with me, following along and celebrating exciting moments. There’s some art I’ve captured and created that I’d like to share with y’all as I reflect on who I was when I started this chapter and who I am now. An amalgamation of the different forms of nostalgia that I utilize often. Because the only way to capture my life is through memories. I can experience, feel, and let go. When I need it, I can remember. When I feel, I can create. And I’m feeling so much right now.

Below you’ll find linked forms of photography, videography, prose, poetry, and blog (as they come out) in my endeavor to capture this love affair with a beautiful country and beautiful culture. As always, thanks for reading x

Depictions - Costa Rica

Simulacrum - Costa Rica

Anecdotes - Costa Rica

Sapid - Costa Rica

Lauren TindleComment