I was sitting in class last March when we received the following prompt:
Write a letter to your current self, from your future self
Oof. A few days before that I had accepted a brand new job, in a new state, far outside of my comfort zone and far outside my well-laid plans for myself. I didn't have much to go on other than the fact that I knew I couldn't stay where I was. My days were marked with tears, struggling to take deep breaths, and fighting to find just a little bit of joy in every workday. Hope was elusive, but I was holding on for dear life.
So on that day, March 27, 2023, I dared to write:
Dear 03/27/2023 Gabriela,
I'm proud of you. I'm proud of you for taking the leap, walking away, and choosing something that you don't quite understand but that you know deep in your bones to be right. To be true. To be good. To be beautiful.
Little one, you made it. I know that you're scared and I'm not going to tell you not to be. You don't have to be though. Life is full of fear and hurt and heartbreak; you don't have to manufacture it. You just need to live. If it feels like home, follow it.
Until one day soon little one, you might realize that you are the home that you've been following. Just you. And you're learning to be comfortable with this "home that is you" with every new step that you take.
Gabriela, the last 6 months will have held so many goodbyes and plane rides and newness. You will have adventured and abandoned traditional, but never abandoned those with whom your heart beats. You will live joy again. You will rest. You will love. You will keep moving forward. You will be loved just for being who you are.
You, little one, carry with you so much. Know that I'm still carrying it. Know that you aren't carrying it alone and that there is always more time.
Little one, you'll find freedom. And once you find it, you'll bring others along.
I love you.
Love,
Gabriela from August 11, 2023 (the last day of summer camp)
Now, August 13th Gabriela simply sits in gratitude. Immense thanksgiving that March me knew in her bones what was right. Summer camp was more than I dared to hope for.
That's the thing about hope. It it requires both anger and courage. My life up until this point had plenty of the anger. Anger at unjust systems, the state of the world, my own actions, the list could go on and on. I thought courage meant staying there and changing those circumstances. In many ways, I still do think that I am called (as we all are) to work for better outcomes for everyone.
The past 10 weeks however taught me about the courage to let go, to fully surrender, and to do the most epic trust fall into hope. There are so many graces to unpack, so much left to write, be thankful for, and talk about.
For now, all I can do is sing praise for answered prayers. Prayers that somehow, I dreamed would one day be answered. I didn't believe when I wrote back in March that they would be answered by August. I'm glad I was wrong.