Fall on the West Coast

The other day, as I was taking an exit off the freeway in Portland, Oregon, I was almost surprised to see a set of small trees with golden leaves roll by my window. Normally during this time of year I am scouting for leaves, taking photos as I spot color changes happening, and feeling a sort of urgency to capture it all before the season ends. 

But this year I am finding myself among a completely new landscape, with new people and new responsibilities. My focus the last couple weeks has been regulating my nervous system and feeling grounded among this ever changing season I am finding myself in. 

Last weekend I wanted to check out Voodoo Doughnuts in Portland, but did not realize until I was practically there that it was in the heart of downtown. I broke down while driving through the busy street because I didn’t know where to park and suddenly all the unfamiliarity was just too overwhelming. 

During my second day of fieldwork in outpatient pediatrics, I observed a six year old boy get assessed for an autism diagnosis by an occupational therapist, speech language pathologist, and psychologist. As I watched, I was told the therapists must code for many things, like how many times the patient makes eye contact, makes a verbal approximation or gestures, reciprocates play, etc. My head spun as I watched the therapist document their findings. 

I walked through the local Trader Joe’s and felt like everyone knew I’m not from here. Maybe it was by how I wore a light raincoat as it sprinkled outside when no one else seemed to be wearing any sort of water resistant clothing. But mostly, I just felt out of place in general. 

I let out an exasperated sigh as a car behind me honked their horn after I’d slowed for just a second at an intersection because I couldn’t tell if my maps was telling me to go left or straight. 

And yet, there have been so many moments and habits I’ve developed that make me feel so safe and grateful. 

The mother-in-law suite I am staying in is a tiny but beautiful renovated space that makes my heart swell. There are sweet details everywhere, like little beaded decor hanging in the bathroom window that casts tiny rainbows all over the walls when it’s sunny. 

I get all my groceries before the week starts so I can just focus on my (often busy and stressful) commute home. And I get to cook everything on a cute little induction hub that heats things in record time! 

I watch many re-runs of The Office because it’s a familiar comfort. 

I call my boyfriend who is now back in the midwest (although was with me during the downtown driving fiasco and was so kind and accommodating). I tell him some days I might call him in tears, and he says that is ok and he will be there for me however I need. 

Last week an artist I like released a song called “I Love You Just for Trying” and announced she is putting those words on a tote bag she’s selling, which I immediately ordered. The tote bag came just in time to take with me to the farmer’s market at Portland State University this past weekend, where I bought lentil soup and sourdough bread to celebrate cooking easy, fall themed meals.

There is a lot of change happening, but I am trying to welcome it. Here is to a season of grounding myself, exploring my beautiful surroundings, refining my clinical skills, feeling a little uncomfortable at times, and growing through it all.

song recommendation: "Unfolding" by Luca Focale