Work has been pretty unconventional since our unceremonious eviction from Connswater. My colleagues have been joking about how many weird tasks you end up doing when you work for an arts organization, and this move has definitely had us doing some odd jobs. The day before we found out we would have to move out of Connswater, we had 40 brand new beanbag cubes delivered to our workshop space there. It was a coincidence of tragic timing. These cubes are gorgeous, multi-colored and corduroy, and we really did not want to have to give them up. We debated for weeks about what to do with them and researched lots of options for returning them, giving them away, or keeping them. We ended up deciding to store all 40 of them in my coworker’s flat, at least temporarily. That is why last Friday, Marnie, Aoife, and I spent the morning moving 40 beanbags (individually boxed) out of Connswater and into Aoife’s flat. It was a tedious process, but the beanbags were blessedly light and we got the job done in record time. 

I laughed to myself because this certainly isn’t what I pictured myself doing when I planned this project a year ago, but I am just happy to be along for the ride. Our move from Connswater has forced all of us to adjust our expectations and plans for Fighting Words, but it hasn’t detracted from the quality of the experience at all. Work looks different than I thought it would– I’m delivering workshops in schools instead of in our workshop space, working from home and coffee shops more than in an office, and stepping up for the unique needs of each new day. We have been able to assemble the team for in-person meetings semi-regularly, and it’s nice to see everyone and offer encouragement to each other. Next week, we will move into our new office space at The Crescent Arts Centre, so we’ll get to put down some roots and feel more settled. I’m excited to see what this next chapter of Fighting Words work brings!

My other big update is that I went to Barcelona! It was one of my favorite trips I’ve ever been on. I wandered in parks for hours, ate patatas bravas and paella (which I’ve been dreaming about since my trip to Madrid in November), finished 2 books, went to a transcendent jazz show, got inspired to try jazz flute, had a sunset beach picnic, made a friend in my hostel, admired so much funky architecture, and took things really slowly. I love Spanish culture– people stop to dance in the street when they hear live music, take long lunches, people-watch from sidewalk patios, and socialize late into the night. There is a leisureliness to life, an emphasis on joy and connection over work and productivity.

I have gotten to taste this leisureliness over the last 8 months because I have had the privilege of working on a Lumos project. However, I will soon enough be returning to life in America. I’ll be working lots, taking classes, adjusting to a new city, building community from scratch again, and jumping back into the fast and busy pace that I knew throughout all four years of college. It will probably be jarring. I’ve gotten used to the luxurious ability to be able to stop and smell the roses, to linger in pleasant moments and embrace spontaneity. I’m not delusional enough to believe anyone can simply choose this lifestyle– I know it’s an immense privilege and I’m unbelievably grateful to be able to experience it. However, I do think there are ways I can bring some lessons that I’ve learned and practices I’ve adopted back home with me, so that I can continue to make time for mindful relaxation and observant gratitude even when I’m in the whirlwind of a busy life. Being here has taught me how important that is.