Someone may ask me, in a decade or so, when I am describing my previous academic life, why is it that after so many tragedies, I stayed in Seattle at all?

I can’t be sure. And can only speculate that it was a combination of fear, complacency, with notes of Stockholm syndrome.

Of course there were times where I was almost away. I moved to Germany in 2018 but was single-mindedly focusing on cello at the time, and still not really considering the implications of my departure.

Then I’ll consider some more, that maybe it was my family that I wanted to be with. But that’s more of a fable I’m telling myself than anything resembling truism.

So I’ll furrow my brow, rub my chin and ponder. What is it about Seattle that keeps me here?

I’ll be making another departure soon, and I wanted to leave so desperately I purchased two flights out.



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