I read once that we, like potted plants,
need to be uprooted, stripped of the comfortable store
container we call home. We need to be gently–
sometimes painfully–broken up
our roots loosened and separated
and placed in a much larger pot with fresh soil
to really grow–we need to be watered, fed,
nourished, yes, but the repotting is what allows us to flourish
beyond our tiny container
These words resonated with me when I was repotted at SLU
I felt ripped from my home, my mother, my town
that was mapped onto my heart I reminded myself that
to grow– flourish– I needed to find roots on this campus.
It took me two years to realize that those tears were watering
my soul, allowing me to grow into this person, this body,
this city that I can call home (now).
As I approach the end of my days as an undergraduate,
with my heels pressing the brakes and
my mind swatting at timelines
these words resonate again.
Transitions are hard and college is especially hard
because the expectation is to be uprooted
I’m scared because I was able to finally
feel a sense of belonging with friends who nourish
my laughter and hold the weight of my pain with me.
It still amazes me how everything I do feels like the hardest thing
I will ever do.
But I look back on these times of transition and know that
the next step is upward.
I am ready to grow–to take on that big girl job,
that graduate school, that renter’s insurance.
It is painful and exciting and anxiety-inducing and nostalgic
all wrapped up in a little package that will meet me at the next
spot I land.