If Renaissance is rebirth, this year, more than any other has been a personal one. I began my Saturn return and felt locked into a period of uncomfortable growth. In lieu of curating a “best of” this year, I’m sharing some recent experiences that ignited reflection.
Some of these moments were obvious and marked by ritual: I finished graduate school after five long years and afterward, I caught my breath for the first time since childhood. High school was about taking the classes and building the resume that would get me into college, college was about taking the classes and building the resume (while financially supporting myself) that would get me into a great grad school, grad school was about taking the classes and going to the events and building the resume (while financially supporting myself) to get the great job. Don’t misunderstand me—I still want the great job—but I accept that it may not look like I once imagined and know that when I do get it, that job alone won’t completely fulfill me.
I sometimes beat myself up for not having studied abroad or interned as an undergraduate, but in the spirit of no longer chastising myself for Past Kayla’s choices, I am grateful to her because the time she spent waitressing in Shelby, hostessing in Times Square, scooping ice cream on trucks throughout the city, barista-ing in Williamsburg, and temping in Morningside Heights gave 2023 Kayla the capital to slow down for a year and really think about what she wants and who she wants to be.
I’ve never sat in state of unknowing for so long in my adult life—sometimes that felt like a major blessing and others like a massive curse. Without a packed schedule to distract me, I learned more about myself than ever before. I can’t share anything quite yet, but I have more hope professionally than I have in a while. If I’m being honest, I’ve spent the last year sort of grieving and accepting that the life I imagined as a child isn’t possible in today’s world, but so many other beautiful possibilities are, and that’s okay.
Two pieces that I published this year both dealt with the hell of decision-making and feeling generally unmoored. I reviewed CJ Hauser’s incredible memoir-in-essays The Crane Wife for Cleveland Review of Books and covered Omega Mart for Some Kind of Opening. Both pieces interrogate finding a path, and once again, I’m putting all of my eggs in the Saturn Return basket: by the end of it, my path will be clear and I will run down it at supersonic speed.
Recent events that inspired rebirth:
Hambidge
It’s been just over a month since I’ve returned, and I’m still amazed by what a magical, transformative two weeks I spent as a resident at the Hambidge Center for Arts & Sciences. I hiked trails and jumped into a frigid swimming hole nearly every day, read tarot cards by a fire, gulped down fresh spring water, wrote nine poems and one essay from scratch, and had the best conversations with some of the most talented, kind, incredible people I’ve ever met. Barely a day passed without one of us saying how grateful we felt to be there, how lucky to be in our cohort. Being there put the poetry back into my writing. I left feeling encouraged about my path forward and more convinced than ever that no matter what happens, I am an artist and my work is worth pursuing.
Also, my studio had a piano, and dramatically playing it every night brought me insurmountable joy. I had no idea what I was doing. I loved it.
Dead Letter No. 9
A couple weeks after returning from Hambidge, I was a plus one to a private party at cocktail bar/immersive experience Dead Letter No. 9 in Williamsburg. The gist of the experience is you enter with a group and are each given a secret prompt by the host that’s revealed after you move to a second room: What’s a smell associated with a memory? Are universes finite or infinite? What would you choose to be reincarnated as? We all collectively winced when asked to define “closure.”
At first, it felt a little cheesy, but as the questions went on, we started talking among ourselves unprompted, and an hour and a half passed before we knew it. How nice would it be for all conversations to go beyond “so where are you from? What do you do?” and dive into “if you had one month left to live, how would you spend it?” Those conversations are possible if we’re bold enough to start them.
Renaissance: A Film by Beyoncé
Of course I saw the film on opening night and plan on seeing it at least once or twice more before it leaves theaters. I’m continuously blown away by Beyoncé’s talent and dedication not only as a vocalist and performer but as a director. Several moments in Renaissance impacted me—one was Beyoncé saying that this tour was a gift to herself, a reward for all of her hard work. She celebrates her crew, dancers, and the innovators of ballroom. The intense diet she talked about following in Homecoming has always made me uneasy, so it was glorious to watch her sink her teeth into a fried chicken sandwich. She references Austin Powers! She shows her mistakes and how she used them to her advantage. I got misty when I saw that her makeup-free skin has the same age freckles that I’ve been worrying about on my own face. Her use of the word “freedom” stuck with me the most—by building a space of freedom for herself she built a space of freedom for others. I left the theater feeling amazed by her vision and inspired to keep creating so that one day I can earn the confidence to make something without feeling like there’s anything to prove.
I’ll be spending the coming days reflecting on what I want more and less of in 2024. May you also have time to revel in your growth and stoke the fires of gratitude.