the return.

Since my return to the United States and conclusion of my travel blog, a few people have asked if I would continue writing. Prompted, I tried to write a couple entries, but I was never satisfied with them. One of the great things about my blog in Costa Rica was that often they were reflections, less impulsive, since I did not have access to technology except during the time I was at the Institute (and when I had time at the Institute, to partake in extracurricular writing). The writings I began I found to be too impulsive; too stressed, too tired, too homesick.

I returned four weeks ago without a plan: no apartment, no job, no tour, no date book. In that respect, I didn't "hit the ground running," in old-fashioned Hillary style. I was not, however, without things to do, and while my resilience to culture shock lasted a couple weeks, I soon succumbed to the exhaustion of the city and broke down. Now that this barrier has been, well, at least acknowledged, it really makes me evaluate my life, daily, by the minute, here in Washington, and what matters to me and why. I'm constantly evaluating my position, my move, my options, and while that sounds like a lot of work, it actually allows me to omit the faux-obligations, which are not always the necessities.

That's not to say I don't have some relief being back in the city. I've had quite the time, so far, with my re-entry. The first week I primarily spent with my parents. The second week I had a good friend from Ohio visit me. The third week I worked close to 60 hours at my old job, making a good amount of money despite my current desire for high-class material investments (i.e. trying to look relatively professional and secure in my appearance).

And then, last week, week four, I finally broke. The city made me claustrophobic. It overwhelmed me with options, pressured me to always be accessible by technology, constantly on my feet and rapidly switching environments, although similar, subtly different. I found the people high-maintenance and overly stressed. It all moved too fast. And there was so much about this that I didn't miss feeling, and I didn't want to fall back into that.

A lot of the above relates mostly to the strangers I encounter, while others more in my transportation adventures around the city. It all seems so...unstable. There are more buildings but less love for them. Less purity, less simplicity.

Enough about the city. Certainly, something has changed in the core of my being. We, as humans, constantly change, but somewhere in me, I see my relationships with this world differently. Maybe that's the fresh air talking (or lack thereof), but there are particular things I no longer want a part in, and others I'm striving to enter. It's a new world, and I have every door open to me.

Two days ago I turned 21. I went out to brunch at Jaleo, with my dad buying me my first drink. For lunch, my best friend Alex and I went to our old neighborhood sushi spot, where they gave us free drinks and even a scoop of green tea ice cream with a candle and awkwardly sang happy birthday to me. For dinner, I had a small group of friends over to my mom's apartment, playing bananagrams and eating fresh, good, classic food and drink. It was low-key, quiet, and comfortable, and exactly what I'm looking for in my life, currently.

In the chaos, I want to find something sustainable. I want to start small, and rebuild.

When I wrote my zine Two Thousand and Great at the end of last year, I threw the term "sustainable" around a lot, mainly because I felt it was such and important term, and it's meaning was what I would discover (or thought I would discover) while abroad. So I use it less frequently now, and with more understanding, more comprehension, more knowledge of what it is, and what it takes. It is a life-long goal to strive for, but I think it's a pretty good one to have.

So how do I start small? Intimacy. Small groups. Family. Watching Little League in Turtle Park. Coffee in Adams Morgan. Backyard BBQs. Family dinners with gin & tonics and middle eastern food. Taking it one day at a time. Small things. Simple things.

Sustenance.