Moving to the Smallest Town in Massachusetts

Transitioning, settling, and making my first at home dinner.

My most significant transitions tend to spawn an in the moment kind of gut-wrenching anxiety. This anxiety is typically not present when making transition decisions; it’s more of an I’ve made the decision, I’m here now, and I’m scared kind of oops anxiety. Therefore, these realizations only set in as I returned to my new apartment, after I dropped my mom off for her return to Tennessee, and stepped into uneasy silence. My first uh-oh feeling.

Transitioning

(From left to right) Peaches, Turbo, and Dolly in the pasture.

I’ve moved to Massachusetts to work at a Buddhist meditation retreat center as a kitchen assistant, which intermeshes my desires to cultivate a mindfulness practice among a community of others with similar intentions and to work with food. To make that a reality, I have inhabited an apartment at an elderly Jewish couple’s horse farm. In other words, I’ve become a part-time poop scooper in exchange for rent.

Settling

Sarah (8), horse expert extraordinaire, texts me from her mom’s phone.

So today, when I returned to my quiet and dark (hurray for winter and daylight savings🎉🙃) apartment, I unpacked my groceries, ate lunch (delicious take-out leftovers), and headed out to the barn to clean some stalls. Honestly, mind you I say this with five days’ experience, I’m enjoying horse mucking so far. I’m grateful for an opportunity to be around these kind, peaceful beings and engage in meditative tasks which make a positive impact, at least so far as the horses are concerned.

After the horse mucking, I had tea while I briefly cleaned the kitchen and two dining chairs found on the side of the road (to be painted¹). Then, I went on a short run during which I recognized how rural my living accommodations are as I passed farm after farm, rows of kale and collard greens and fields of goats and cows. Relative to the anxious, isolated feeling in the pit of my stomach hours ago, I felt happy to observe my rural neighbors.

Making Dinner

(From left to right) Make Your Place by Raleigh Briggs and The Modern Cook’s Year by Anna Jones.

I contemplated skipping dinner, but with local produce in the fridge and time on my hands, I opted to make miso roasted squash + potatoes and kale by food writer Anna Jones. Having just moved in, I made some modifications with what I had on hand, like subbing pumpkin seeds for almonds, Marguerite’s creole seasoning (which I picked up on my last visit to Savannah, GA) for harissa, and adding brussel sprouts. Inspired by my dinner from the night before at Littleburg in Somerville (we commuted to Boston to pick up a couch) where they have a dish dubbed Hummus for Dinner² (which was out of this world), I added store-bought hummus to the plate. Voila.

My meal includes leftover za’atar flatbread from Littleburg. Also, the plate and water cup are beautiful creations by my very talented friend Leanah. Moving with them I figured that while I may have nearly zero furnishings, at least I have beautiful dinner ceramic-ware to host six :) Indoor picnic anyone?

Since entering the empty apartment earlier in the day, I haven’t yet experienced that dreaded isolated feeling that I’m all too familiar with (my freshman year of college felt a bit too overcome with that breed of anxiety). In surviving college, learning to make the most of it, and growing to enjoy it, I understand that I do best when I don’t isolatedly dwell in arising anxiety. Therefore, in being around horses, going for runs, and writing blog posts (thanks for reading🥰), I feel more connected to others and the world around me and less lonely and anxious. Thanks for being my dinner company❤️

1. If anyone has an opinion on the chairs (seen behind my computer in the last picture) being rusty orange, dark sage green, or one orange and one green, please give me a holler. I can’t decide.

2. Here’s the dish’s descriptor if anyone’s curious: tahini hummus, warm chickpeas in tahini broth, pine nuts, saffron glazed honeynut squash.