When my identity fails
I don’t know if failure is the right word, but as I sit here in Denver again, settling into the space I’ll be occupying for the next three weeks, I recognize the mushiness that comes with unclaimed identity. I realize I have, and had to, de-crystalize who and what and where I was before this adventure. It was time to leave Arizona. Anyone who knows me well has heard it on my lips again and again, but there was always one more mission, one more reason to stay. I think I also had to truly fall in love with the desert, which I did over the last 6-8 years I was there, and I’m incredibly grateful for that. This year, though, 2025, I was done. Every time I considered doing something I used to enjoy in Arizona, I felt nothing. No spark, no curiosity, no joy. The desert had given me everything it could. It was time to go to Colorado. I’ve thought of Colorado off and on for 18 years. The first time I remember was in 2007 when Fort Collins was named one of the best places to live for ...