minnesota.

january 31, 2025

one day i’m going to sit down and delve deep into why i insist on avoiding the thing i feel called to do, but today i’m just going to leave this here like i didn’t just miss posting last week.

enjoy.

i’ve been here a month. (?!?!)

happy one month anniversary minnesota, we’re so cute together.

a latte here is $7 and i don’t know why. in true midwestern fashion, if you pass someone on the street they will smile and wave at you. i like to imagine that everyone secretly knows that i’ve just moved and they want me to feel welcomed. i giggle on the phone with a friend about how i got from point a to point b without the gps and i call myself a local.

i’m still door dashing and every time i door dash i wish that there were more things like this. things that gave me this kind of flexibility and freedom. something i can pick up, make something for my time and put it down when i need to do laundry. but i’m still door dashing. i delivered an order to a woman the other day that was complicated and that included me dropping off not one but two variations of her order to her job. i delivered her order to the front desk as she walked down the hall and she said “you’re so amazing thank you, can i give you a hug?”

i have a favorite coffee shop now, it’s in the neighborhood i like best and the one i'm looking for apartments in. it’s a lot to say and a lot riding on this one location in all of minnesota, but i feel like the version of myself that i’ve been manifesting and growing into when i’m in that coffee shop. i stopped by to order a matcha yesterday and ended up asking the baristas if they knew who owned the apartments upstairs. i’ve been apartment hunting this week and i had the cutest daydream of living above my favorite coffee shop. they didn’t know who owned them but they were pretty sure they wouldn’t be available for a while. the conversation ended with me going “i’m new to the area and have been lookin for a new spot so thank you anyways…” it was an attempt to leave the conversation a little open, a chance for it to continue. i could feel my seven year old self shyly peeking her head out from behind me going “friends? d-do you guys wanna be friends?”

i’m at the library again but this one has biiiig beautiful windows, i can see the river and the trees, the sleeping trees.

it’s a panoramic view

and it is beautiful.

this journey is beautiful.

i am beautiful.

i think i get increasingly more worried and frustrated with my journey the more i don’t write. i think there’s a very obvious correlation that is of course only obvious to myself right now. and that correlation of course propels me to write more…wrong. i less and sometimes avoid it all together.

the worry is familiar, the frustration is familiar and i’m hanging on to those two like they are the final threads of connection to a life that i am no longer living. i know how to be them, feel them, sit with them. my new friends hope and trust are patient. the universe is being so gentle with me. the lessons i’m learning are the cutest little speed bumps i’ve ever seen. from one teacher to another, these lessons i’m growing from are catered and customized for my maximum enjoyment and growth. i remember asking the universe that if there were lessons that i needed to learn (which of course there are) to give them to me gently.

and every week i’ve been here i can feel her say

“aight, bet.”

it snowed here last week and there was ice everywhere. it was a friday night much like tonight and i was making deliveries. the doordash app pulled up with roadmap directions on my phone and airpods in my ear to giggle and joke with my gaming buddies in discord. i got out of the car to walk a delivery to the door and slipped on the ice in the walkway. on my way down i considered how hard i wanted to fight the falling but i had the food delivery in one hand and my phone in the other and to manage the risk of damage either of the two and myself, i decided that i would accept the fall and assess the damage later. i fell straight on my bottom (thank god for a lil cushion back there) got up, left the order at the door and walked back to car. no harm, no foul.

my journey here feels like that slip on the ice. small mistakes and inconveniences being made here, and a few more over there. they’re gentle and cute and they are almost always packaged with a solution i don’t have to look too hard to find. this is the in between

, the part of my story i said i wanted to be awake for. it’s fascinating this feeling of inception. this week i sincerely, intentionally, and consciously thanked the older version of myself for doing the work for me to be here. and now, it feels like i’m putting in double shifts to become the next iteration of myself. to my future self, you are most welcome my love. it feels like a foundation is being laid, like seeds are being planted, aren’t tulips the ones you plant in the fall/winter so they can bloom in the spring?!

my new friends’ hope and trust are persistent. they are the friends who find you in the middle of a meltdown who say “everything is unfolding as it should,” and you believe them and suddenly you can breathe.

they are soft and kind and incredibly patient. the universe is being incredibly patient with me.i am being incredibly patient with myself.

it’s been a month and a half of 'in between' and i would do it all over again…

and again and again,

you hear me makhela?

i would do it

again and again

just for you.

this week sounded like: <iframe data-testid="embed-iframe" style="border-radius:12px" src="https://open.spotify.com/embed/track/5unJ9nY1a3BoChA9VTSBOJ?utm_source=generator" width="100%" height="352" frameBorder="0" allowfullscreen="" allow="autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; fullscreen; picture-in-picture" loading="lazy"></iframe> this era is my favorite evolution of my writing style. i read all of my pieces after i post them but i’ve been coming back to these more and more often. perhaps you will enjoy them as well.

until next time, m.