puzzles.

i've never seen so many puzzles in my life. completed ones adorning the hallways. unfinished ones covering the coffee tables. images of houses. and scenery. and animals. and television stars. and i've never really been an avid puzzle person. just not that spacially gifted, i guess. but there are many of the elders at the senior center who are devout puzzle constructors. crowding around the puzzle table day after day until every piece is in its place. and the whole puzzle is taken upstairs to be glued together. and the fragments of a new picture are scattered about for the next challenge.

and as my eyes pass by these puzzles. day after day. sometimes i grow slightly envious of the pieces. and how they've all found their place. and how they're all dwelling where they fit. in union with all the others. apart of something greater than themselves. contributing to something that is whole. and beautiful. each part a little different than the next. yet significant to the community. each community incomplete if one of its pieces is missing.

and i'm envious because i don't know where my piece fits. or if it ever will. or if its even meant to be glued down. and sometimes i wonder if i'm looking at it backwards or upside down. blind to its beauty. confused of its true form.

and then part of me morns for the puzzle pieces. when they get glued down. and stuck. like that's it. no more wandering about. it seems kind of boring being in the same place all the time. surrounded by all the same pieces.

so i can't decide if each puzzle piece finding its place is beautiful. or tragic.

and conversely, i can't understand if each puzzle place not knowing its place is tragic. or beautiful.

and i yearn to have a place. where i am harmoniously contributing towards something whole. yet part of me also knows i can't just be glued down. there's too many other puzzles to see.

so this puzzle piece will continue her wandering. and wondering. uncertain if she will discover her place to fit. or if fitting in is really the point.

or if there's a puzzle out there that exists for all the pieces that can't seem to figure out where they're supposed to go.

the place i've felt most in my element these days has been making peanut butter cookies and sledding with geneva. an eleven year old girl i've started to mentor. spending time together seems to give us both a sense of belonging. a place to fit.

and geneva makes me think of azaria. my eleven year old, craft loving, baking expert that i dearly miss from those moments in grenada. those moments in grenada. where so many days i questioned my purpose. and so many days, i seemed to fit.

so perhaps all i can do in this moment is apply those grenada lessons forward. and live one day at a time. not worrying so much about fitting in. or not fitting in. but just being who i am. and embracing freedom. and continuing this journey towards something that is whole. and finding solidarity with those other pieces that might not quite fit either.

a different sort of beauty.

i knew it when i gazed out the plane window in anchorage. the sunsets are different here.

lingering. in no sort of hurry. dancing on the horizon as long as they please.

and i remember those sunsets over the bay in grand roy. the ones i would rush to see. for fear of missing them. one of the few things in grenada that was quick. the sun would sink so abruptly. then inspire a unique splash of colour in the clouds. each sunset different. reminding me of fleeting beauty to be embraced. a sacred celebration as the light disappeared into the sea.


but on those days that are clear in nome, when our hearts give thanks for the sunshine and the blue skies, we don't have to hurry to see the sunset. she lingers. she stays around a while. don't worry, she whispers in the quiet stillness. there is beauty in abundance. beauty that lasts. you must only open your eyes to see.


and the sky gradually transforms. as day and night trade places. and during these winter months, darkness lingers much longer than the sunsets. but folks tell me not to worry. the sun visits us more and more each day. and summertime will hold an unfathomable magic.


but we can't just live during summertime. so we breathe in the cold winter air. and marvel at the snow. and open our eyes to the present beauty. and trust in the beauty that is to come.


and only on my third alaskan sunset, my wonderfully eccentric, compassionate, worldly coworker issac, let me tag along behind him on a pair of borrowed skis. as the sunset tarried in her simple glory. and we carved out a path on the frozen sea. in awe of the vast beauty unraveling before us.


and i slowly and awkwardly ventured on. my first time on cross country skis. falling flat on occasion. yet somehow finding a certain rhythm. lost in all of this. another set of "i live here?" moments. like i would have in grenada. just surrounded by a different sort of beauty this time.


and in skiing over the sea, everything seems so open. so wide. and there is no path. you just go. and find your way. stride by stride. and there's not a right way. or a wrong way. the way just evolves in time. and you just wander. and trust in where you're going.


and i feel like i'm wandering. from place to place. with no clear path before me. making it up as i go along. yet somehow caught up in the beauty of it all.


and i don't know where i fit. or where this path is taking me. but i'm on it. and it may go in a straight line. or a circle. or just meander around. but i must trust that its taking me where i'm going. so perhaps i'm a nomad in nome. in search of something i'm not quite sure of. but searching still the same.


and there is beauty to be held in this place. but hopefully, as in grenada, i will discover the people that give this place its true beauty. i will discover the spirit that dwells here. the spirit that lingers.