Today I finish my last bit of work for Squam and make the transition into the liminal space, like so many others, to unemployed. That's not to say that there aren't any embers in the fire to fuel a possible return someday, but for now it's fully giving over to the unknown.
It is with some bit of grace that it feels like the loss of one thing is allowing the space to open up for something else. Having my days so free and clear under these highly unusual set of circumstances does indeed seem like an opportunity. The path feels wide open and beckoning, and I truly don't know if at any other time in my life I would have had the presence and availability to really be all-in in the way it's being presented to me in this moment. Even though the odds are against me - only about 15% of adoptees reunite with their birth family - I am one hundred percent here for whatever is meant to be.
This is as much a period of new discovery as it is an excavation. I'm mining for something buried deep within me, not just searching for what was severed just after I was born. So I've also been pulling out everything I have from my past, childhood photo albums, mementos from my trip to Korea in 2004, letters from friends of my Nana and Papa's who happened to be from Korea and took and extra shine to me when I was young, slides my Papa had taken while stationed in S. Korea during the war, and all the records and documents I have collected from both my parents and the orphanage in Daegu.
For the first time I am seeing it all, nothing is hidden away... not only is it strewn about my studio, but it's all being reflected on, catalogued and treasured in my heart and mind's eye. I am finally acknowledging and processing everything side by side: the life I've known and the life I never had, and in this dichotomy creating a more complete picture of everything that truly is while making space for what could possibly be.
It feels like the most important work of a lifetime, like everything was getting me ready for this. Not to search for my Korean family, per say, but to be able to hold all the messy and hard parts of the story together as my own. No matter what new information I may or may not find along the way, I feel so ready to be heart deep in it all.
Just writing these words, I know I am already complete. Maybe this is the greatest gift of all.