Volunteer Explorer

What they don’t tell you about the whole “try, try again” adage is that sometimes trying again feels like a surefire way to fail again. Sometimes your brain gets so attached to its history of failure that it sees failing as inevitable, maybe even as success. What they don’t tell you about accepting failure and moving on is that the failure sometimes becomes part of your very fabric. Sometimes the fabric of failure starts to feel like whole cloth. Sometimes that shirt gets so comfortable that you can hardly tell it from your own skin. What they don’t tell you about falling in love is that sometimes the falling is so terrifying that you’ll grab onto anything to break your fall. Sometimes falling feels like flying until you look down and see the ground rushing up toward you, covered in the broken pieces of last year’s fall. What they don’t tell you about getting older is that sometimes you forget to act your age and your heart reminds you there’s still a little child inside ...

For the third time, the wind turned my umbrella wrong side out. Nearly frozen raindrops lashed at my hair while I pivoted into the blast to get the thing right way round again. Despite my earmuffs, gloves and warm boots, a chill was settling into my bones. It was only 6:30 on New Year’s Eve, and already I was done being outdoors. Turns out, the dazzling promise of the Big City could not change who I am at heart: an introvert who loves her creature comforts. My considerably younger companion concurred, and we made our way through the soggy streets to a bus that would carry us back to within blocks of warm, cozy shelter. My only New Year’s Eve triumph was the fact that I managed to remain awake until I could hear the faint boom of fireworks at midnight while my youthful companion snoozed intermittently. I stepped out onto the icy balcony to catch a glimpse of rosy blooms above the dark silhouette of large buildings. A neighbor wished me a happy new year as he tended to h...