Let Go.

 As the time approaches for me to leave my beloved Pacific Northwest in a fashion that feels frighteningly exponential, I've been reflecting on the things I'll be leaving behind.  It brings me equal parts sadness and joy. I am so sad to be leaving so many wonderful people, places, and things behind.  I am so very lucky to have been able to live here during the time that I did.  This is true both with respect to the time during my own development that I was able to be here, as well as the time I was able to be here as the greater Pacific Northwest is developing as a whole.  I think it was an excellent fit. I knew when I stepped off the plane to interview for graduate school in Eugene that it was where I was going to live.  It felt like home.  It was February, but everything was lush and smelled like soil and evergreen.  It was where I needed to be.  

I've grown so much in the time that I've been here, and I was asked to carry a lot of weight during the time I was here: moving somewhere I knew almost no one (twice), graduate school, teaching, clinical work, research, a full-time job, commuting 100 miles for work, my first real love, commuting 200 miles for love, the end of my first real love, the loss of my father, the loss of my dog, the "loss" and return of my brother, my support of my mother, bouts of nearly crippling anxiety, depression, and self-doubt.  And not only have I emerged stronger, I've emerged more fully formed.  I have a better sense of who I am now than I've ever had before, and I know it was because of the many people and experiences I've come to know here.  I'll be leaving so much behind, but at the same time, this place has fundamentally shaped who I am, and that is something that can't simply be let go.