My year of healing in the tetons
According to Garth Brooks’ lyrics, “heartache is healed by the sea.” What if it’s caused by the sea though? Well, by the people of the Sea…ttle. After three harrowing post grad years spent doom scrolling, errr doom applying?, for a “career position” while my industry imploded and the world shut down, I finally achieved a dream—to live in Teton Valley, Idaho.
I rolled into Idaho December 2021 with a battered, bruised, and skeptical soul. Unsure of possessing a loving heart any longer. The night I arrived in Driggs, I hastily began unloading belongings from the back of my RAV4. Nerves are probably responsible for my sleeve catching the corner of an open box and spilling its contents. A sky-blue hand spun pottery mug shattered on the pavement. My favorite mug. A relic acquired from a local artist on Cape Cod during my performance life dancing on stages with my dance partner across the United States. Thoughts of “good luck, a mazel tov moment,” swirled through my road weary brain.
In practice over the following year, the jagged edges of those pottery pieces scattered at my feet revealed themselves back to me each day as the people of the valley generously applied a salve of love and appreciation along the rough edges of my soul. At the time, I did not foresee how the shattering of the mug moment would unfurl as an allegory, an awakening, for my year of healing in the Tetons.
Fall 2019 I proposed building a dance program at a local community college. My idea accepted, I attended onboarding in early March 2020. Two weeks later the government shutdown dissolved the opportunity, eradicating all career prospects. How does an artist grapple with the world informing them they are not essential while simultaneously being expected to entertain everyone…for free?
As a scrappy little human, I cobbled together a multitude of jobs to make ends meet and capitalize on paying off student loans while interest rates remained frozen. Most of these jobs involved teaching dance via Zoom. Yes, Hell exists. It is teaching ballet amidst a pandemic. Creating dance videos for students and sending emails out into the void without ever receiving a reply. Therefore, I blame my exhaustion from the psychological cage/infinity loop of filling out job applications for the incessant cycles of experiencing the five stages of grief amidst relentless rain. Fun side story about the “anger” tidbit of the grief cycle: Driving to work every morning I yelled and sobbed at each silver Prius sans headlights. Seriously, what drivers refuse to turn on their headlights when their vehicle is IDENTICAL to the atmosphere? Fast forward to our lovely valley in the grips of winter storms. Lookin’ at you, white trucks. With a severe side eye.
Overall, the pandemic exacerbated everything wretched about the upper left…the cold, distant people. It amazed me how fear reverted everyone to their default settings. The people of the PNW became hobbits relishing the chance to hide from civilization and my sweet, Southern soul simply did not fit. There were times I thought I would never recover—emotionally, physically, psychologically, financially.
You, however, dear citizens of the Tetons, opened your doors to me. Currently, you trust me with teaching ballet to your children, you smile and greet me, share laughter and sweet moments, wish me well and best of all, you mean it. How do I express my gratitude under a limit of 1,200 words when the richness of our shared moments is more deeply meaningful than words? I’ll cheat, that’s how! Together we:
reveled in the sunshine by your garden at the cozy oasis you built.
walked around a field every day in the sun, wind, rain, snow.
lost cornhole tournaments by extreme margins.
tumbled across ridgelines through wildflowers all summer as trail buddies.
danced at Music on Main.
pretended not to cringe at mutton busting.
offered each other photo shoots on top of Table while cracking jokes.
sat around bonfires.
created art; paintings, candles, woodwork.
paused to allow town moose to cross at the crosswalk (we have intelligent moose here in Driggs!)
pirouetted and leapt through ballet classes or on stage for the Nutcracker.
gawked at snow sculptures.
cheered on BINGO winners at Highpoint Cider.
ice-skated in Driggs city park while your child demonstrated how to skate backwards.
admired magical snowfalls along Sheep’s Bridge Trail.
provided endless amusement on the Community Facebook page. (My personal fave is the brilliant Teton Valley Bingo cards! Who won by the way?)
lost our voices while shouting encouragements at Skijoring.
performed everything I needed and more than I ever imagined.
The tiny moments of solitude in nature also lifted my spirits—the etched silhouette of the Tetons before sunrise while driving to work, picking wildflowers while walking dogs along State line. Feeling small under the Grand, within the gentle summer breeze or amidst the swirling snowflakes, released my pain and diminished life’s difficulties. This past year in paradise has been a sweet and rewarding journey where I relished every single day.
My story is not singular. Many wander into this valley under the same conditions—searching desperately for a friendly face, a place to be heard, felt, seen. Maybe most follow John Muir’s words by attempting to lose their mental anguish and discover their soul in these mountains. All are operating out of William James’ truism that “The deepest craving of human nature is the need to be appreciated.” I did not know how deeply I needed affirmations. Or rather, simply to have my existence acknowledged. In the way you express appreciation so easily and bestow me with admiration and love. I left the Seattle area asking whether as an educator my responsibility is to instill this virtue in students. Here, your children hold no fear in showing and telling me how much I mean to them. Don’t worry, it’s reciprocal. These students and I laugh together, work hard together, learn together in the dance studio. I’ll be forever grateful to you and this chance to live in the Tetons.
Students and LK huddle closely
“I am exactly where I am meant to be.” ~ Velvet Moose
As the sign in The Velvet Moose states, “I am exactly where I am meant to be.” Laughter now burbles up in my throat and I can find humor easily again. Maybe it’s not the big moments that prove a heart and soul are healed. Instead, the minutiae of daily life where one suddenly realizes their voice is louder, steadier, surer. Ultimately, my time in Teton Valley is transient. I’m learning to be ok with the idea of impermanence.
In the meantime, each day here is a gift. You are a gift. Your kind words and honest smiles continue to soothe my soul. Thank you for telling me how grateful you are that I am here. With your words, yes, but more importantly with your actions. No matter how much work it’s taken to get here, how much pain I experienced, how exhausted I am—it’s all worth it to feel the energy from the stage again, to be amongst friendly humans again, to love freely again. This Land of Many Uses is a place of healing. Of rebirth. Awakening souls for their purpose and enlightening spirits towards their cardinal direction.