A New Chapter Begins

A heavy day

Today is the final episode of the first iteration of Completely Arbortrary.

Me and Alex (Photo by Taylor Pendleton)

That’s tough to actually write, to say out loud. It’s been a mainstay of my life for the last five years, through so much change, hope, dismay, excitement, and growth. Once a week, rain or shine, through thick and thin, Alex Crowson and I put out a story about a tree. 248 original episodes, plus several bonus and extra episodes when we needed a break or one of us found ourselves bodily unable to record. To look back on that and read through our list of trees and topics is truly staggering to me. I couldn’t have imagined being here in November or 2020 when I pitched this idea to Alex in the depths of the pandemic.

The first thing I want to say is thank you to everyone who’s ever listened, commented, emailed, collaborated, told their friends, bought a sticker or a shirt or a hat—to everyone who supported us and encouraged us in any way. That really is the reason we could continue going, and it’s the reason that we feel capable of taking this next step on our journey. There is something truly special about a community of people coming together to rally behind your work—all on their own accord—and be so generous with their words, support, time, and love. It truly is a privilege to experience, and I can only sit back (cry a little) and say thank you from the bottom of my heart.

The second thing I’d like to say is how much I appreciate Alex and his friendship over these years. We’ve grown so close and have so thoroughly found ourselves intertwined in each other’s lives that he feels like a brother now. He was there and listened and supported me through some of the best and worst experiences of my life thus far, and I can’t imagine getting through those moments without him there to hear me. For that, there are just no words to express my gratitude. Building a creative partnership with a friends is a risky venture, we knew that going in. We had some hard conversations, and we definitely had moments of frustration. But we also gave each other a deeper kind of support and trust, comradery and partnership than we would have otherwise. The risk was worth the reward, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

That brings me to the third thing: what’s next. One of the primary reasons for choosing to take this hiatus from Completely Arbortrary is that I’m embarking on The Year of the Cone, and, simply put, I could not take on this project without giving it my full focus and energy. As of today, that level of focus, dedication, and energy is ratcheting up that much more. However, it comes with a lot of complex emotions.

After moving around for ten years, I moved home to Portland in 2016 with my heart bursting with potential and excitement to explore the city I loved with full force. Now we’re ten years on from then, and I am stepping away from that comfort zone to challenge myself in ways I’ve never come close to attempting before. On one hand, I’m extremely sad to be leaving the neighborhood I love and the community I cherish; I value those so highly that I often question if all this is even a good idea. With that comes the doubts and trepidations of the projects itself: can I actually make this happen? Do I have it in me? Can I accomplish my vision? Do I have the skills? The time? Can I even afford this?

On the other hand, I know in my heart that this project can succeed in ways I can’t even imagine right now. I know what a spiritual journey it will be, and I know that despite the work of it, it will be a formative and deeply personal experience. To some, living in a truck sounds awful (mom). To me, that doesn’t sound like a bad way to spend a year at all.

My emotions are caught between these two perspectives, these realities that are both so lovely, but also mutual exclusive: I cannot stay and go at the same time. I cannot start something new without leaving the old thing behind (at least for now), no matter how sad it makes me and how hard it is to step away from.

So there’s only one way to find out if I’m up for this, if I can actually make it happen: choose go. Take the leap. Take the risk. Step out of my comfort zone and meet the challenge in front of me. I love this place, and I love the people around me, and I’m going to miss them terribly. But I can never come back if I don’t go.

With this, on the day of the last episode of Completely Arbortrary for a while, and the day I put my 30 days notice in to leave the house I’ve called home for three and half years, the day there is no turning back, I want to give gratitude to you all and thank you again for the courage even try.

Thank you.

On another personal note, I learned yesterday that my friend and colleague Damon Schrosk passed on after several years of living with ALS. Damon was one of the first people from the Portland arborist community I met, and we stayed fast friends ever since. He and his wife Andrea, through their company Treecology, were pillars in the tree community and leaders in focusing on caring for their employees, the people they worked with, and the trees they worked on. They were the only two people to come to my very first tree walk at Hoyt Arboretum. They sponsored our first Treevia night and gave everyone trees to take home. Damon was the first person to hire me when I moved back to town, and he never failed to support me and countless other like me. It’s on his shoulders I and people like me stand, and it’s a massive loss for everyone who knew him. Make sure to tell your friends you love them, and please consider donating to ALS Northwest instead of me this time around.