Life in Launnie

The beginning of last week was an absolute dumpster fire of bad news. The kind of news that leaves you crippled on your bed while you cry. Sometimes, it feels like right when life starts to pick up and get better, I’m kicked down even harder. But you know what? It’s going to be okay. Yeah, I got bad news, and there’s consequences for that bad news, but there’s nothing that I can do except move forward with my life. That’s something I’ve always known, but haven’t applied as much until I moved here. So, instead of writing about all the things that have gone wrong and then looking on the bright side, today, we’re just going to start with the bright side. Because, even in the midst of accepting my devastating news, I asked myself to look at the positives in my life, and I’ll be honest, when I take the time to sit and weigh it out, the scale will always tip in favor of things to be grateful for.

A lot of people, especially the ones I’ve met here, don’t understand why of all the places in this world, I chose Launceston to call my home. I don’t see it as me choosing Launnie, or Tasmania, or Australia, I see these places as choosing me. Because let’s be for real, there is no universe where I could’ve found this place by myself, or orchestrated every step to get me exactly where I am, doing what I’m doing. In fact, I think that if I would’ve tried to make this place my home, it probably wouldn’t have worked. Anyone who’s been along for the journey and read this far, you know the original plan wasn’t here, it wasn’t doing this, and yet here I am. I’m in this small town, on a small island, off the mainland of Australia. What is it about Launceston and my life here to love? I think the better question is, what isn’t there to love?

I’m from a small, one stop-light town called Seagrove, but the town I spent my time in was Asheboro. Asheboro is home. It’s where I went to church, where I learned to drive, where I spent too many nights at Cookout with my friends, and where I feel at home. There’s no part of me that doesn’t love Asheboro, that doesn’t call it home, but I also know that I never want to live there again. It’s not just the limited job opportunities and career paths, it’s the fact that I know everyone there, I feel crushed by the idea of who I can be, and that if I stay there, I’m boxed into being a certain person. Though Asheboro is a safe harbor, I am a ship meant to sail and explore; I will never achieve my full potential there. What I love about Launceston is that it feels a lot like Asheboro, it’s small, has a lot of cute local coffee shops, and the community is strong. But unlike Asheboro, I didn’t grow up here, I am a stranger to these streets, which means I don’t feel predispositioned to any ideas of who I could be here. I feel limitless, yet I feel safe; I feel foreign, yet I feel at home. In many ways, I feel as if I’ve found a town so similar and so different from mine, half a world away. How crazy is that?

Right now, I’m sitting in a coffee shop called Bread + Butter, drinking a dirty chai and looking out the upper window across Prince’s Square. I woke up early this morning, went to the gym, came here to write, then I’ll go home to clean around the house before leaving for work at four. I’ll work a twenty-four hour shift, run by to visit a friend, then I’ll have dinner with my church family before coming home to pack for my trip to Melbourne and Sydney. I’m living a life I never could have dreamed of. All these things I get to do now, they’re gifts I never thought I would get to have. I never thought that I would find a city, a church, a job, or a group of friends that all felt like home again. I thought that my chance for that was gone when I left Asheboro, when I left everything I knew behind. I thought that there was a chance I could get a few of these things again, but never all, and yet, through a working not of my own, I have all of that again.

Here are two things about Launceston, about my life here, that make it so beautiful. First, there is no shortage of adorable, quirky, coffee shops. I think my favorite one is at Glebe Gardens. Glebe Gardens is an outdoor garden store that sells, well, what you’d expect a garden store to sell, but they also have a café with outdoor seating, and a garden walk. Two weeks ago, I put on a white maxi skirt, a brown crop top, and I hauled my tote bag to Glebe Gardens. I grabbed a medium latte, set off on the garden walk, and sat alone in a pavilion surrounded by flowers. There, I read Little Women while sipping coffee, the way I believe Louisa May Alcott fully intended us to. While we’re on the subject, I always told myself I was Jo growing up, but let’s be honest, I’ve always been Amy. I’m too vain, I love pretty things, and I’m too much of a romantic to be anything but an Amy.

Last Wednesday, Wilma and I decided to take the boys to the Bridestowe Lavender Farm, a place I’d visited back in April. Unlike last time, the lavender was in full bloom, with endless rows of purple. Not only is it beautiful, it smells wonderful, and they have the best purple, lavender ice cream. The boys and I had waffle cones, while Wilma enjoyed a coffee. When we walked around the fields, we passed a pond I had sat at in April, where I’d written to myself, “You’ll never be here, in this moment, as a twenty-four year old again.” While that was true, I’d also never thought that I’d be back there again, yet not only was I back, I had returned with people who felt like my home, people I never thought would mean so much to me. I’d sat on that bench, looking at the plants that had been picked clean, and I tried to imagine their beauty, much like I’d looked into my own heart, bare and empty, clinging to hope that one day it could be full again. Then, there I was, no longer having to imagine how beautiful the blooms would be, I saw it with my own eyes; I also didn’t have to hope anymore that I would no longer feel empty, because life had bloomed in me, too.

Even when we receive the worst of news, we can always look at the bright sides of life. Life will always kick us down, people will betray us, we will disappoint ourselves, but we get to choose what we focus on, who we will be in that day. Will I be someone who lets my worst moments shape my life, or will I be someone who chooses to move forward in spite of them? I’ve noticed this past week how the desires of my heart, the ones I haven’t even voiced, have been answered greater than I could’ve planned. I have been offered a farming job that will fulfill my visa requirements, I have been asked to take on another client for my support work business, I have wonderful friends, I live in a wonderful town, I have enough free time to pursue what brings me joy, and my friend Sarah booked her flights to visit in March. I want to challenge myself, especially as I move into the new year, to focus less on the bad, on what I don’t have, and more on the blessings I do have. When we pause, when we stop to be thankful, we realize how much we’ve been gifted. Because, even if everything goes wrong, we don’t see the big picture. Your heart could be empty now, searching, but the seeds could already be planted, just waiting to bloom.

Yours Truly,

the Brightside Blonde