Washington DC: The Butterfly Effect
Happy Birthday, Brynnly! Thank you for continuing to be my muse.
The self-inflicted exile has come to an end, a chapter in my life defined by tumultuous twists and unforeseen turns. It is astounding how much can unfold within a single year, with life’s ability to pack a lifetime in a mere twelve months.
A lot has happened since coming back from that long, arduous bike ride that ended up leaving me grappling with more questions than answers, with each pedal stroke that moved me further away from what I had thought I was seeking. At that point I had decisions to make while processing the journey that I was hoping would be an inspiration for the next chapter’s writing. And it certainly did. When you give time and space from your daily existence, you get to see things that would’ve under the daily normalcies go unnoticed. For me, the question of “what am I going to do with my life?” came roaring back. The person that was left from the experiences over the past few years was desperately seeking change so profound that this new direction could only come to be because of a major event.
“In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state.”
I can’t say the event I experienced 4 years ago was a small change that led to my chaotic state. But it is a theory that could explain where life has led me to. Now, as I sit and write in the confines of my new San Francisco home, I find myself reflecting on the whirlwind of change that has defined the past year. In the span of twelve short months, I parted ways with the house I once called home, taking the memories with me; I ventured into unknown terrain with a new job in the nation’s capital; moved across the country not once but twice; and along the way gleaned invaluable insights into my life as I navigated on winding roads that lead me back to what is important to me, 3 blocks away from where it all begin. But why did I do it?
Ever since Brynn’s passing, I had been locked in a relentless battle with myself to undertake a challenge big enough that it represented the big love we had for one another. But what was big enough? Would anything be big enough? As the pressure mounted, another self-inflicted one I might add, the aspiration of “big enough” expanded, and I ended up taking a job with the US Federal Government in Washington DC to work on healthcare related issues at the beginning of 2023. This was certainly a big departure from the familiar terrain, both personally and professionally, but I believed it offered the best means of honoring Brynn. But was I truly honoring Brynn in the manner she would have desired?
My move to DC was quick, almost impulsive by many standards. I didn't dwell much on the decision, nor did I feel any significant emotion during the transition. I was driven by the desire to make an impact, and I went ahead with single-minded determination, neglecting any other considerations in my life. In DC, my focus narrowed to tackling complex challenges, and yet, amidst the intensity of this professional pursuit, I started feeling a stabilization in my personal life. Perhaps it was the separation from the environment that was loaded with memories, emotions, and most likely unresolved grief that would allow me to stabilize. And like the space I had taken from my daily life by going on that bike ride that lead me to DC, the space I was now taking from SF was providing me some newfound clarity. Clarity to ask different questions such as “what does a fulfilled life look like?” Questions that were not about pursuing goals or quests for impact that would help broker my peace with life, but rather a new appreciation I was having for the present moment. It was about exploring a vision I had for my own existence and how I aspired to navigate the journey ahead that also looked to be leading me back to San Francisco.
So, what does a fulfilled life look like for me? During occasional visits to SF, I rediscovered the simple pleasures I had long overlooked during my decision to move. The often-chance encounters with friends on familiar streets brought a warmth to my heart and a widening of my once faint smile. As I sit here two weeks into being back home, I reflect on the past year’s journey. It becomes clear to me that fulfillment didn't have to be measured by material achievements, but rather by the richness and depth of our relationships with our loved ones. And I am reminded of the profound depth I have achieved in SF that is guiding me back to a sense of self, rooted in connection with my relationship and to my community as I embrace the familiar faces and places. And as I integrate myself back into San Francisco, the city itself feels like an old friend, welcoming me back with open arms.
In the end, honoring Brynn wasn't about achieving a static goal but about living a dynamic, fulfilling life. It was about being present in the moment and cherishing the connections that make life meaningful. The journey toward fulfillment is ongoing, shaped by each decision, each ripple, and each moment of clarity that has been emerging from this chaos. And as I sit here, back in San Francisco, I feel a profound sense of gratitude for the journey and the simple lesson I learned along the way. And I have DC to thank for that.
-Troy