Jump

I talked a bit about not recognizing myself in my last post. It's still been on my mind, especially since classes started. The first two weeks of any September means working pretty much non-stop for the community garden, where I work.

The fall semester especially is huge for new students and there are a bunch of tabling days and events to kick it off. It was a little over 30 hours of work each week on top of classes starting up. I always joke that I "black out" and "Work Juls" takes over, but increasingly, I've not been finding it very funny. Increasingly I'm worrying that I'm actually disassociating. Or masking. Something. I see like 500 new faces in the course of a couple weeks, so forgetting some people and their names is probably fair game, but I still feel bad. And at times it feels like it goes deeper than that, especially at the end of a long day when looking back, it really feels like it was someone else the whole time.

Of course this might just be imposter syndrome, too. Or maybe I'm simply hitting capacity over and over again, day after day, and so things are bound to simply go forgotten.

Anyway, semi-related: this Monday I was interviewed for Crescendo, a show on the student radio station CFUV, where the host Jed talks to "grassroots organizers about the current state of organizing for on-the-ground people power movements" between some great tunes. It was my first time live on air, and I think only having a day or two's notice helped a lot, but our conversation had my mind racing. Not just about growing food and community, but about why I'm doing this at all.

You can listen here. I haven't had the guts yet to hear myself talk!!

I got involved with the garden in the fall of 2022 because I was new to UVic, needed a job, and they were hiring a media person. Since becoming the Assistant Coordinator, it's become a lot more than just a job. I love what we do and what we can provide. I'm proud of how far it's come and excited for how much it can still grow. I've found ways to connect my writing life with the garden life, and vice-versa. My contract comes up around the same time I'll be graduating with my degree. I used to think I'd leave then, and follow where a hopeful MFA program takes me, but more and more I've been thinking I might reapply to my job and see if I can do a distance/low-res or local MFA (god willing) and keep up with my work at the garden. The thing is, I can't guarantee getting hired on again and I can't guarantee any of the MFA applications, either.

The not-knowing of all this has had me sick to my stomach. So has the usual fun and games of applying for scholarships, contests, and just generally sending out my fiction and poetry. And sending out more queries for my garden book; the very last of them. And trying to figure out what writing to include in my sample, how to edit my SOP, and reworking my CV.

Part of why I want to stay is because the garden feels like it's on a precipice. It's tipping into something bigger. And so am I, with writing, I hope. But teetering on that edge is terrifying. The last time I was here, I was applying to return to university and had no idea what was in store for me. It's always fun looking back at those periods of not-knowing. It's fun looking back at yourself on the cliff's edge, ready to jump even though the circumstances of your flight or fall are completely out of your control. As a writer, it feels like I've sent a bunch of emails out into the world saying, look, I've jumped, and hoping someone at least enjoys the show.