image from all the way back in the middle of the month when the leaves were 1/2 up and 1/2 down.
It has been slow, and I think that if I were not looking for it I really might miss it, but over the course of the last couple of months, I have been feeling more on the inside of things here, in our not-so-new-anymore home. As opposed to on the outside peering in. Almost three and a half years later. Like I said, it has been slow. For all of the obvious reasons. Vermont and New England in general are slow to warm and even slower to welcome. Which is something that I expected, and yet living it is another thing. I think compounded even more by hailing from the Upper Midwest where the belonging is deep (even as the fitting in can be somewhat more complex). I have almost always, especially as an adult, felt very certain of who I am along with my place in things there, some regions more than others no doubt, but it has most often been a certainty that has felt secure.
I was reminded recently of something Alycann Taylor said to me when we first landed in Viroqua from Santa Fe in the months before Maple was born. She and her hubs and newborn (now 17 year old!) had recently made the move back to the midwest from Idaho and they were our first friends in our new town. She said that being from Wisconsin is a lot cooler when you are not in it. It makes me chuckle to remember. Both for its ridiculousness along with the truth of it. I am not slow to claim the rolling hills, rich soils, rivers, and lakes as a big chunk of my heart. And my fervor for that claim has always inflated itself significantly when the Upper Midwest seems like a far-off land.
But like I said, not all regions are the same, and the resonance I felt in some places was not there in others. So it goes. Like we had to really carve out our home in some areas as opposed to the way we had more of an immediate arrival in others. When we first moved from Viroqua to Mount Horeb, I remember Maple just being furious with me. She hated the smallness of our yard. It took her a while to see the bigness of the park and forest right across the street. It was the same for me really. I had to work my butt off to carve it out. The first time that our friend Jess visited us from Viroqua the misalignment of my place was reflected in some of her first words: Yikes. Wrong Habitat.
And honestly, I struggled with it for some time. A few years. The suburbs of Madison were a tough pill to swallow, in part due to the conventionalness of everything, but also because town life, in general, took some getting used to. We did find our way there, mostly. Through a lot of effort and desire, we were able to claim our identities and felt, over time, a strong sense of belonging, even if we still felt a little bit like the weirdo outliers.
And yet, we always knew that it wasn’t forever. We almost left a number of times, but just couldn’t quite find the right spot. There was one moment in particular that stands out as a catalyst for this move. It was Chris and Eider in the driveway looking up at the night sky. Eider said something like: wow! look at all of the stars papa! and chris was like oh my god there are like 10 stars visible and I have failed you Eider. We think about that often now and throw our heads back to laugh as we look up at a sky that on a clear night is all stars from horizon to horizon. It is the little/not so little things that find us here I guess.
When we were visiting and searching out our Northern Vermont landing spot the high school that Maple goes to now, Peoples Academy, stood out to us as something that would work for her. I cannot really say why. It is a public high school with many of the problems of most but somehow we got a hit of something that felt like it would gel for her. And we weren’t wrong. Eighth grade sucked, and then of course Covid blew everything out of the water, but the last almost 2 years at PA have landed her in a sense of community and belonging that I am not certain she would have found to quite this same degree anywhere else. Certainly not in Mount Horeb. She said something the other day about how dad wanted to move here because of the stars and isn’t that funny, isn’t that perfect, because her school has such a strong astronomy program and an incredible telescope. A few weeks ago she was there observing Saturn with some of her friends. She is a Capricorn, ruled by Saturn, and I think for her it feels as though everything has fallen into alignment in this way that simultaneously makes perfect sense and supports a deep and true feeling of belonging in her.
In part, her gravity has been pulling me toward the same sense. Much more slowly and with a few more obstacles standing between me and the purity of that feeling. But slowly, slowly, yes. For me, everyone else needs to be more or less sorted out before I can begin to find my own way and that has been slower than all get out. First I was so concerned about Moo as she navigated social dis-ease followed by mental health obstacles (and gifts), and then as she began to resolve and then really click into place my concern shifted to Eid and the enormity of his loneliness and isolation. But he has recently clicked as well and the weight that has lifted has been so complete that the remaining task of making sure our little one is social and happy and active and engaged in his world has become the easiest and best of daily tasks.
What is left is me and what makes me feel like myself, whole and curious and alive and meg. And slowly but surely. Teaching has always helped me feel like me and as ever I am finding the more I do the more I am. I feel it like roots weaving their way deep into place and into community, by virtue of all of the things. School and school involvement is a huge piece for sure and I am happy to be showing up in those spaces both as my kids’ parent and also as myself. I am also so pleased to be teaching at Sterling Forest and planning for more in that space is both grounding and exciting.
As it turns out I am not alone in the slow-to-be-welcomed-in Vermont experience. I have heard folks say that it has taken as long as five years to really feel it here, so I think then maybe I am fortunate to start sensing it just beyond three. This summer was hard with visits to Maine and Wisconsin both, where my sense of place is easy and complete. It made coming back a challenge, every time, and yet when pressed I never could say that I wanted to give up on this place. This is right for us right now and probably for quite some time. I want to plant and build and grow here. I want to be real and alive and awake here. It is not perfect but it is home. More and more every day.
So we’ll get tattoos to mark our place and time and keep on reaching for engagement and connection and adventure. Maybe we stake a claim that lasts for generations- in spite of our signs and our wanderlust- or maybe this is just a moment. Whatever comes to pass, I want to look back and see as few gaps in embodiment as possible. I want to live and love, know and be known, right here. Right now.