Transitions (again!)

Sometimes I think my heart is like seed scattered in a million little places. It’s that type of abundant beauty that could make you cry, but it also kind of hurts. I am leaving Portland and the Pacific Northwest knowing that I am leaving so many of those seeds of my heart spread around this beautiful, beautiful place. When I look at the trees I think I can feel them in my bones, and when I look at the faces of those I’ve shared this place with I can’t imagine not knowing them, can't imagine who I am without them. That’s how I know I’ve planted seeds here. What I’m still trying to figure out is how the heck I got so lucky.

Many of the faces I have shared this place with are those of the young adults I have worked with through my service. I’ve started to say goodbye to many of them this week and these goodbyes have made me realize how much of my heart is wrapped up in the relationships I hold with them. When I think about the communities I’ve built for myself in Portland, the little Education Space I work in is by far the strongest one. It’s been an incredible gift to be let inside the journeys of these young adults, for however small a time, but it’s also really hard to be so invested in them and then leave without seeing their journeys through. Like all of us, the young adults I’ve worked with have a lot of story left to write for themselves, and I guess a part of me wishes I could be there to see how their stories turn out.

The nature of service work itself is a funny thing because it can sound to so many like “making a difference in the world” and “changing lives”. I want to make it clear that I am no savior. The faces of these young adults are not ones that I pity, not ones that I see as less than, not ones that I ever aimed to save. They are ones that have prompted me to consider my privilege, yes, and also ones that have taught me things about myself, about what it means to be in right relationship with others, about how to stand in the face of incredible challenge, about how to find lightness and humor and joy. In this deeply human work I’ve had to confront more closely than ever before the fact that we are all human, not one of us any more or any less.

Working with people my own age, people I consider my peers, has been a funny thing, too. Not infrequently did I question my place and purpose in all of it. Grappling with the reality of homelessness is difficult as it is, and made more complicated by the fact that while I headed home from work at the end of the day, many of my peers waited to be let back into shelter for the night. I still can’t wrap my head around it and have quit trying to make sense of things so senseless. I’ve come to learn that a lot of social services is about navigating tricky systems that you wish you could just eradicate. I’ve come to learn that a lot of right relationship is not about fixing but simply being with. Life, maybe, is lived in the tension.

JVC has this slogan: “Ruined for Life”. I remember starting my JV year feeling a bit apprehensive about this phrase as I was quite happy coming out of college and didn’t really care to be “ruined”, per se. Reflecting back now at the end of it, I know that I most certainly have been, whether I intended to or not. Mostly I hold more tensions walking out of this year than I did walking in. There are things I never thought of before that I now think of almost daily, but can’t begin to comprehend. Answers I thought I had have turned into questions. My heart wants to leave this place as much as it wants to stay. It is that abundant beauty that also hurts.

My love for all this year has been and all that it has given to me is hard to put into words but it is so, so deep.