歪歪漫画

Many people live their lives day by day, not sure of what the future holds.

That was not me. I planned every step of my life meticulously 鈥� to its benefit and detriment.

But an untimely wrench rocketed my life into a new direction, ultimately leading me to Bemidji at the Pioneer.

Now that I鈥檝e time to reflect on this tumultuous period in my life, I want to share a small portion of that with you as I hope to close one chapter and begin anew.

I had just a year left of schooling at the University of Iowa before I could enter the real world and attempt to make my mark as a journalist. It was an exciting time in my life.

My enthusiasm came to a crashing halt.

In January 2022, I was leaving a family Christmas celebration to go back to Iowa City, my temporary home. I made the mistake of exiting onto Interstate 80 as ice rained down on the road, something we Iowans are less familiar with.

Even though I was heading down the road slowly, I eventually felt my small sedan spin 鈥� I lost control. In a flash and a bang, my car was sticking partially into the road and partially on the shoulder. Part of me felt lucky as I noticed the edge of a guard rail saved me from undoubtedly ending up in a ditch.

But my luck felt short-lived.

A semi-truck was barreling toward me and I feared for my life. I rolled down my window and waved at the driver to switch lanes as if they didn't see me. The oncoming driver did switch lanes but it felt like they did it at the very last instant.

I was spared. But my car was not.

Half of my back bumper was missing, never to be seen again as the muffler, broken on impact, screamed in agony as I pulled into the I-80 Truckstop, the largest of its kind in the world.

In my eyes, the car missing part of its bumper was solely a cosmetic thing and it made for good conversation, so I kept the car but an unrelated issue officially totaled the car by the end of the year, a car that I loved.

TJ Rhodes / Bemidji Pioneer

This accident affected my life in many ways. It exaggerated my anxiety, which made my job as a delivery driver with Hy-Vee extra challenging. I was in a long-term relationship and was now too afraid to drive the hour that was once my favorite drive. And most importantly, and many with similar trauma will understand, it gave me the excuse to ignore life.

I tell this story because I鈥檝e thought about it a lot lately, especially with the ice rinks we call roads here in Bemidji.

That fateful night on the interstate was my breaking point. It's the moment that separates the positive, happy, vibrant, young and tenacious version of myself from who I was at the start of 2024, someone who despised life 鈥� a face I no longer care to recognize 鈥� and who I am today, someone who is trying to love life again.

I know none of this pertains to Bemidji yet, but I would have never found myself here if I never adopted my life philosophy in early 2024. That philosophy is to never drink stagnant water.

Part of me feels I adopted this philosophy to help me get over the accident after two years of pushing it to the back burner. But honestly, whether I was ready or not, it opened my eyes to the world at large.

I take a daily pledge to not drink stagnant water 鈥� stagnant water is toxic 鈥� its flow has stopped and has no natural way of filtering out pollutants like water that flows through a river. It's water that kills if not properly cared for.

This saying, to me, means not remaining in one place in life for too long and especially not feeding into any negative situation.

This could apply as a mental state of mind or a physical affair; regardless, stagnant water exists in every possible stream of life.

I did nothing but drink the stagnant water for the two years that followed my accident.

So I decided to change everything about my surroundings and began looking for work outside of Iowa. I wanted to get better at the idea of going with the flow.

This philosophy and mindset landed me a job in Bagley as the managing editor of the Farmers Independent. Though I did not hold the title for very long, I felt thankful for everything I gained from the experience.

And I know it鈥檚 a bit anticlimactic, but that is the story of how I found myself in Bemidji. I still have to remind myself of stagnant water. I contemplate if I am making positive strides forward or if I am reverting back to the water that spiraled my life in a direction that was never planned.

However, it did lead me to one of the best first experiences I鈥檝e had in a very long time: the Bemidji Christmas Bird Count.

Before I was worried about drinking stagnant water, I was enveloped in the world of improv. If one thing stuck with me, it's the principle of saying 鈥測es, and.鈥� Though I have yet to master it, I at least allow myself to consistently say yes to many new experiences. It鈥檚 helped me a lot as an introverted journalist.

One of these experiences was the Christmas Bird Count held in Bemidji on Dec. 14. It's the first time since living in Bemidji that I felt a true connection with myself, and I鈥檝e been here since July.

I am very grateful for Kelly Larson and David Harrington who took me under their wing, allowing me to have a complete birding experience. I鈥檝e always loved birds but never quite knew how to show that appreciation, and they showed me how.

Now, I鈥檒l never look at the sky quite the same way and am excited to build on what I learned.

The takeaway, for me, is quite simple. If I never adopted the stagnant water philosophy, I would've never had that experience.

With every new experience and interaction with life, the world drafts a new stream, guiding me to an ocean of possibility, with the wind of change at my back.

And Bemidji was the unlikely landing point, and I am grateful for that.

I tell this story because I enjoy talking about my journey through life but I also hope that you, the reader, can find your own meaning through my foibles.

Whether that is shown through leaving a job to pursue a passion, finding the strength to leave an abusive relationship or simply taking one positive step forward, I wish you luck.