It’s officially summer and the realization that I won’t be returning to classes in the fall is setting in. I am of course delighted and fueled with joy over taking the next steps in my life, however, there is a part of me that knows just how much I will miss seeing my fellow classmates and professors.

I spend my summer mornings meditating and doing yoga, and just this morning I came out of meditation and saw the grains of fiber in the rug beneath my feet. I was immediately reminded of a meditation poetry class I took with Tony Trigilio, and how he cautioned us against waking from meditation too quickly, how it was important to see with clarity the environment surrounding us. (But don’t worry Tony, I haven’t become attached to the fibers of the rug). I looked forward to sitting zazen every week in his class. I was previously Buddhist before coming to Columbia College Chicago, but getting to learn from someone who also has a practice in the philosophy was truly a wonderful experience.

The other news of my summer is that my Visa was just granted for moving and living in China over the next year. So, I am simultaneously dealing with a horizon that is full of promise and adventure—something I have wanted to do all my life, and I am also faced with leaving behind something truly magnificent. Both prospects have made me realize how truly lucky I am. As I prepare to make this move, I have begun to throw away everything I can’t fit into two suitcases, which is quite a lot of stuff. I have begun shipping my books back to the family home in Ohio. The amount of books has been enough to fill 8 boxes, which should not comes as a surprise as I acquired roughly five poetry books a week while I was in grad school!

As I was throwing everything away, I came across an old broadside by David Trinidad.

David was one of the reasons for me coming to Columbia College Chicago. To this day his book Dear Prudence is still my favorite collection of poems. I got to take one class with David, and it was a class on poetics, in which we explored our own understandings of the poem and what it means to write the poem in our day and time.

David Trinidad in the shimmer of light!

One of the last things David said to me was that I had good control of my endings (referring to poetry) and that was good because I would always have that. This memory has triggered a warning of sorts for myself and for others. And that warning is that I have realized how easy beginnings and endings are. That in fact living in the middle is the thing we are most scared of. I think this advice is as much about life as it is about writing. Truly great poems or stories just don’t begin or end with a bang, they erupt all the way throughout. With this in mind, I have carefully placed David’s broadside in my suitcase for my trip to China.

As I am currently in the middle of an ending and a beginning I am trying to enjoy it as much as possible! My fiance and I recently saw the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and I was reminded of the power of live music. My imagination was transformed and I began to create entire worlds in the moment. The CSO often offers tickets for $15 dollars to students and the city of Chicago is full of inspiration for writer’s, so if you are here, don’t forget to explore!

Chicago Symphony Orchestra. Mason Bate’s world premiere of Anthology of Zoology