Withholding my Bests

It's been a busy few weeks. America is far more stressful than Scotland. Most likely because I didn't have classes that counted or a job in Dundee (I actually still haven't found a job so totally willing to wash someone's cat or something). Moving to Norman has dominated most of my time. I gathered my life from what seemed like all corners of the United States, from OKC to Houston, and I still have belongings coming from Louisiana in July.

I'm in love with our little grey cottage situated on Brooks Street, only a mile from campus and a mile from Campus Corner bars. Could the location BE anymore perfect?! 

I couldn't wait to move to Norman, but now that I'm permanently here, it is filled with memories from the last two years of my life. Places that once made me smile make me cringe as I drive past. There are certain CDs I don't listen to anymore. There were so many plans that are no longer going to come to fruition. 

I fully trust that this change will ultimately be good. I have faith in my future, but it doesn't mean change is easy. 

My grandmother sent me a book in the mail titled "In the Garden of Thoughts" and there is one in particular that has resonated with me recently.

"It is time to go and leave the past behind. Exile the thoughts of painful memories. You have learned what they have taught you."

It is a good reminder for me. Some memories may sting now, but I have many more beautiful ones to make here in Norman and beyond. What I used to think were the best days of my life were just the beginning of better days. My friend Nimesh and I had a really interesting talk on whatsapp while we were both under the influence of prescription drugs and I think it has sober relevance. 

To sum up, he reminded me of the dangers of labeling anything or anyone "best." I am very free with the adjective, using it to describe anything from people to pasta, and while there are worse things in the world, it is unfair to the future. Who's to say the best isn't yet to come? I don't want to limit my future by declaring the present as best. 

I hope I am constantly striving for best, but appreciating each life stage as better than the one prior. 

Just because it isn't best doesn't deem it worst. 

I've struggled with "getting over" Dundee and my time there. It's especially hard because my relationships with the friends I met are not limited to my time there, but instead stretch into my future and I wouldn't want it any other way. 

But I need to stop thinking of my time Scotland as the best in my life. It likely was the longest series of good days, to use Nim's words, I've had in a long time, but I choose to refuse to limit my best life to one single semester. A Very Lucky Girl deserves a better best.