Well.
When you make a promise to the Internet and disappear for a few years, it’s a little awkward to come back and try to resurrect your online presence. But grad school tends to suck all the life and brain power out of you, and I’m nothing if not persistent.
Yes, Vidi is back (rejoice!), and I’m hoping to get back to some sort of posting schedule—look out for new blog posts in 2022! As always, we’ll see how this goes.
A few things have changed in the past several years. I have added four little letters after my name: MSLS (Master of Science in Library Science)! I left the New England chill and drove thirty hours to Austin, TX, where I have lived and laughed and wept and explored for the past four months. I am friends with a cat I am calling Toaster, I helped make an online exhibit about the American freshwater eel in Texas, and I am firmly planting my feet into this new Texas dirt, fighting for community and having adventures with some lovely new friends. I’m a little older, a little wiser, and a little more aware of my fear of abandonment. Yay healing!
(This is your sign to try therapy, by the way.)
I know I haven’t discussed my library journey much on this blog, but I am truly so lucky to have stumbled across this field. Most people are confused when I explain that I need a Master’s degree to be a librarian, imagining the stereotypical old woman shushing people who breathe too loudly and reading the entire collection of books in her free time. I assure you, library and information science is much more dynamic and relevant than that. The intersection of books and community, researching and teaching, justice, care, lifelong learning, and even marketing takes everything that I love and experiences I’ve already had and throws it into a blender to create the most wonderful literary milkshake. The more I’ve learned, the more I recognize how well suited I am for this career path. I look back over my life and see that God has steered me right into this place I’m in. I’m really thankful.
As I attempt to restart Vidi and update you all on where I’m at right now, I want to take this moment to put my hands on the shoulders of those in transition, whether that transition is joyful, tragic, or just plain confusing. Maybe you don’t know what you’re supposed to do next, and seeing academic programs completed, marriages celebrated, babies born, engagement rings shining from your Instagram feed, or houses moved into really hurts. Friend, I see you, even as I celebrate this accomplishment of mine. And, in many ways, I stand in right beside you in transitions of my own. What we are feeling is real, and if I could give you a big hug and listen to your entire story, I would. This time of year, as communities and families gather to take stock of themselves and the past 365 days, feels hollow for those of us who are not where we wanted or expected to be. But the place you are matters. The things you’re doing right now matter. If there’s anything I’ve learned from children’s television, it’s that people always change, and life always changes. And if I can make an assumption about you, you and your life have drastically changed since this time last year.
I do hope you know you are enough and that you feel more hope than melancholy in the December darkness of this Christmas season. But if not, I wish you patience in the waiting and the strength to keep taking steps. Advent is all about longing, waiting for the Light of the world to step into this darkness, perfectly situated in the middle of the darkest point in the calendar year. I promise you’re in good company. You’ve at least got me.
Because I’m a librarian now, here are some resources, both literary and musical, that I hope soothe some of the holiday ache.
Things to Read
Things to Hear
Gloria, Gloria by Jess Ray
The Return (Love Comes Back) by Rose Cousins
Annalise’s Cliffhanger playlist on Spotify
Photo by Jessica Delp on Unsplash