When I moved to Seattle in 2012, Andrew and I were not yet engaged and I struggled to find my place in the Emerald City. A group of women living next door to Andrew’s Green Lake bachelor pad reached out to me and became fast friends. Out of that group a women’s bible study was born. This bible study later morphed into a book group held at a house in Queen Anne inhabited by some of those same women. This group of women became one of the most important communities of my Seattle life. Once a week we gathered for prayer, fellowship, laughter, tears and some zaniness. Sometimes we would even discuss a book. The group was a constant in my life. A safe place where honesty was always welcomed.
A few months ago the rent on their Queen Anne house was raised to an untenable level necessitating the relocation of said friends. While this is bitter, there is also sweetness, as one friend is moving out of state to pursue a dream and another just got engaged. These are happy things, and yet, I struggle: The band is breaking up (on good terms) and I am mourning the loss of a community hub.
The houses inhabited by these women were the location for general hang-outs, celebrations, movie binges, house parties, low-key and fancy dinners, and general merry making. The number of friendships and romances that were born and tended in these houses is a credit to my friends. I want to emulate the way they prioritized community and hospitality. In these houses our community had a place to land and was always welcome. What will I come back to? Will there be a house where we all gather? Do I have a part to play?
While I couldn’t have verbalized this a year ago, I realize now I had the idea that I would return to a Seattle untouched by time. Like Sleeping Beauty, I believed that I could enter a state of altered reality and the world would do the same, waiting for me. The reality is that friends are buying houses, getting engaged, married and having kids. A golden era may be ending.
Lately, I’ve really come to embrace what I call the “greyness of life” in which two, seemingly opposite things are true simultaneously. I can be wonderfully happy in my present circumstance, while also being sad that something beautiful is ending, changing and shifting. “How am I?” “I’m happy AND I’m sad.”
In my brain, I know that something new and equally delightful may come into my life or a new iteration of that community life may emerge. But right now, in my heart, I’m sad. I am surprised and sad to realize that something I thought of as a constant will no longer look the same when I return. It makes me feel a little naive and a bit vulnerable to admit.. But that’s where I am. And I’m going to sit with my sadness for a while.
Life changes and people move on, but I’m not quite ready to do that yet. ~0