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.