The following is an unedited, stream-of-consciousness personal journal used to experiment with different subjects outside of assignments and to practice free-writing. It shouldn't (at all) be viewed as a portfolio of polished work.

To see examples of my professional writing, please visit ginabegin.contently.com. For photography, please visit eyeem.com/u/ginabegin or my Instagram channel @ginabegin.

My Place Here

Finding your sense of place after moving can be a confusing process. How do you deal? By @ginabegin


I don't know this place.

Its hills, its further mountains, its farthest glaciers. I don't know them. I want to.

I'm in an in-between place, a place where I'm not sure if I'm a permanent part. I question if I mean anything to anyone here, or if I'm just a tiny fragment in passing, an unclear memory someone will recall a few years from now while they struggle with my name.

"You remember — that girl! She came from Utah, or Florida, or somewhere—"

It doesn't matter too much at times. I was alone before I came here. Then again, it matters because I want it to matter. I want to care about a place. I want to be tied to it, to see people on the street and hug them. I want to be connected to the land of a place. I want to understand it, to have a give and take relationship with it, to be challenged and comforted by it.

I want to go away but be ready at the end to return to a place.

But then moments of memory stab into perspective and I remember: I remember waking up to my breath frozen on the car windshield, stuffing my clothes in my warm sleeping bag, then trying to dress while still wrapped inside. I remember filling gallons of empty water containers, each simultaneously providing what I used to wash and to drink, and feeling the water run over my scalp and drip off the ends of my hair while I scrubbed it clean, trying to keep the drips from falling onto my toes. I remember flicking my headlamp on and reading, alone, in a black area of a black somewhere, hoping it was safe. And I remember sometimes turning on my computer to watch a downloaded show just so I could hear people's voices before falling asleep.

The wildness is gone; there are responsibilities now. During the wild time, I told myself I'd never live like this again — paying rent, paying bills, paying another for my life.

And now I do. There's comfort in it, and there's a painful longing in it, too. When I remember the wildness, I want to be back in my car and be free.

I stay in this place because there are reasons more important than running. Besides, I already did enough of that. I know what nearly three years of it was like: lonely.

But is that loneliness any different than being in a place I don't know and that doesn't know me? Is it a worse loneliness than being in a place with people who could forget my name as easily as an item added as an afterthought to a grocery list?

I don't know. I don't allow myself to think of it much. I'm trying to take hold of this place and understand it. I hope in the process to find my place — where I belong — and create memories that keep me grounded. I want to look back and remember the people of this place, the way they hugged, and how the land comforted me.

5 comments:

  1. paying rent, paying bills, paying another for my life.... to familiar of a taste for my mouth, i should know am living it right now the worst part is i know to many people that are living the same way, with that same taste .. but i do not dare to escape alone .. i hero you for doing it .. and learn from it . thank you

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Roger. You can do it if you want; even if it's for a short time. It's such a powerful experience!

      Delete
  2. Great looking blog Gina - keep in touch with us on Twitter. Plus we always love to share photography. (New Instagram account: BritishColumbiaMagazine.) Use #ILoveBC. Cheers for now. Jenn @ BC Magazine.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you so much for taking the time to stop over on my blog, Jenn! I'm happy to have found you all and glad we were able to chat a bit on Twitter. I'll certainly be keeping in touch. :)

      Delete
  3. Thank you! I did write a book — it's just that I only put it up for a nonprofit organization to share with attendees at their conference since I wasn't able to come and talk. It's not publicly available, but one day I'll wrap up the full version — when there's time! :)

    ReplyDelete

back arrow more arrow