The Spaces In Between

Every December/January for the last six years instead of making resolutions I have chosen a word or two to define the upcoming year. My previous words have been: breathe and lead with love, (2014), trust and focus (2015), listen and flow (2016), space (2017), magic and connection (2018), and joyful curiosity (2019). Each time I have chosen words that reflect my hopes for the new year, and they have always provided me with guidance and companionship as the year has unfolded.

Like my 2018 words (magic and connection), I am reluctant to say goodbye to my 2019 words (joyful curiosity) as they have served me well. In the beginning of the year, Pippin and I found much joy in being out in the snowy fields and woods around Amherst. The thaw in April and May made our walks full of mud and bugs, but I loved watching the skunk cabbages unfurl in the marsh, and listening to the spring peepers in the fields. I loved the way these words invited me to pay attention to the details of the natural world around me. They were also good words to carry with me during the anxiety of my job search, and the stress of a move to a new place, as they helped me face an unknown future with curiosity and a light heart. It is hard to say goodbye to them, but I am also excited for new words and a new year.

Even though I only called Massachusetts home for a year, it was a place where I sunk my roots deep into the land, and I miss it dearly. I want Pennsylvania to feel like home too, and so I have been thinking about “home” as a word for 2020. I have been traveling a lot this fall, and in the spring I want to spend more time in my apartment and exploring the mountains and lakes and rivers of Central PA.

While I was babysitting my earth-baby, River, in early December, I brainstormed a series of words to find one that might pair well with home.

home. hearth. history. love. kin. generations. learn. grow. growth. green. earth. fantasy. fairy. queerness. quest. travel. adventure. flight. hope is the thing with feathers. fields. wide open. openness. possibility. ken. knowledge. navigation. compass. north. guidance. spirit. faith. feel. connection. relationships. life. laughter. joy. spark. fire. fierce. femme. butch. me. mindfulness. healing. gratitude. galaxy. earth. stars. sky. moon. god is change. earthseed. roots. blossom. bud. kindred spirits. time. mystical. magical. wild. mystery. art. creativity. sweetness.

One reason that I like this practice of finding a word for the year is that I love words and playing with them. It also makes it hard for me to settle on a word because I love many words and I want to find just the right one, in both meaning and sound. From the list above I played around with different combinations: home and creativity, home and sweetness, home and balance, home and laughter. They were all fine pairs, but none of them seemed quite right.

A few evenings ago I was sitting on my parents’ dock with my close friend, Kelly, enjoying the winter river-scape, and catching up on our lives. This past year she has been building her business, Odette Press, (you should check out her work, it’s amazing!) and moved to Brooklyn. She shared with me how much she loves her new place, and her roommates, and she said recently she has been thinking a lot about the concept of belonging.

“Interesting,” I said, “Belonging is a similar word to home, one of the words I am considering for the new year.”

Since our conversation, I have been thinking more about this word, and its relationship to concepts like home and community and loved ones and kinship and self and identity. In 2020 I want to feel at home in my home. I want to feel at home in my body. I want to feel at home in Carlisle. I want to feel like I belong in PA in a way that I do not feel right now.

(I should say that I do feel very at home at Dickinson College. I love my colleagues and students, and have felt very welcomed to the campus community. It’s just the town and surrounding area that feels less like home.)

Belonging. Longing. Yearning. Last night as I was turning the word belonging over and over in my head, the word tender came to mind. Tender and tenderness. I have a mug, created by Both/And Pottery that says: tenderqueer. I love the word play of tenderqueer/genderqueer, and the idea that tenderness might be a part of my gender expression and my queerness.

Tender as a year word feels a bit risky; it opens up the possibility of hurt. Tender like a bruise or a wound. Like the word joy before 2018, I don’t think I could have considered tender a few years ago. My heart was too raw and heartbroken by grief. But now tender makes me think of healing, and kindness and compassion, softness and sweetness. And it can be a verb: to tender something. To tend to something.

And thus, it is after deep reflection and free-writing, and conversations with dear ones, that I have settled on the phrase “tender belonging” for my 2020 words. I want to bring more tenderness into my life, and to create a loving home-space for myself. Tenderness and home. Tender belonging. Happy 2020, everyone!