Throughout my life, I have tried to move forward and grow—sometimes impulsively; sometimes by compartmentalizing anxiety around previous and future failures; sometimes having no choice but to grind through the ADHD; but, always with an emotional and reflective quality to each major step. I like to think that for the most part, I have moved forward with my head up and my eyes wide open with curiosity (rather than said anxiety). But I cannot pinpoint a time when I could fully understand—or at least feel—the idiom “coming full circle.”

Then, today in Copenhagen, as I sit in my students’ hostel lobby on Day 5 of the trip, I look up the statement I have said (with a smile on my face) probably one-hundred times since last September—having never before reflected upon what this statement actually means to me—“yeah, I am a visiting professor at the University of Oregon and I am teaching this bicycle transportation study abroad… the same one I went on as a student in 2017… really full circle, right?”

The apparent meaning of the well-known idiom—“coming full circle”—is to undergo a complete cycle of change and return to your original starting point, but with new perspectives, growth, or a completed narrative. It implies that after a long journey of exploration or experience, you are back to where you began.

I had never quite bought it though. There have of course been coincidences and moments that make me question if maybe I do believe in ‘destiny’. But had things in my life ever come “full circle.” No, I don’t think so. Quite frankly, it was never even something that sounded very positive or desireable to me—maybe it is the American in me, maybe it is my queerness, maybe it is my boiling curiosity, maybe it is just how I was raised—but no, ironically, desiring a return to a place in time during which I found myself happy and excited for said future was not something that sounded right.

Many of us live these lives in which we feel like we *must* keep moving up—whatever that means, whatever that looks like. Onto the next job, onto the next friend or partner, onto the next and the next and the next. “Settling,” even if for happiness, feels wrong. We move through our days like they are infinite, like they can be taken for granted, like the next step forward is always going to be better, like the grass is always greener on the other side—whatever that other side might be. We miss the nuance of each day in life, and we miss community without ever recognizing that it may be all we need to rid ourselves of these common social anxieties. To us, none of “coming full-circle” could ever sound good.

Back when I started this blog In late June 2017, I had no idea where I was going. I had one year left at Georgia Tech in my masters program and I was to return to Atlanta without my consulting job. I was stressed, burned out, and feeling choked by the invisible hand of American culture. I knew I loved transportation, I knew I loved planning, but I also knew I despised where our country was headed and what our transportation system had become. Car-brained, dividing, inequitable, injust, unsafe, and unhealthy.

Copenhagen opened my eyes when few things could have. With my legs and butt sore from all the biking, new friends made, and a joy I had not felt in such a way, maybe ever, I excitedly moved my fingers over the keyboard, free-writing my thoughts and experiences on the page. We had done long rides and short rides—along each one seeing people enjoying their city, enjoying the public spaces, sitting in the grass with seemingly not a worry, and with a trust in their community. We saw community and joy that stands apart from what we could find in America. I was hooked.

I sat at the bar with Marc one evening, and I simply asked, “So you just get to do this…? You get to bring all of us to Europe, advocate for a better world, share in the joy we are all feeling, and THAT is your job?!” Marc responded, “Yeah, pretty much.. of course there is more to it, but yeah here we are!” Thank god I sat down for that beer that evening in Copenhagen.

Two months later, I began a NASA-funded research project on electric vertical takeoff and landing aircraft at Georgia Tech. A year later, I was off to Japan for a second research job. Two years later, I was off to the University of Southern California to complete a Ph.D. in Urban Planning. Seven years later, I was hired as a Visiting Assistant Professor at the University of Oregon to work with my former study abroad professor, Marc Schlossberg, and a few of the other amazing planners who teach (or will teach) the same study abroad program—Rebecca Lewis and Anne Brown—all becoming colleagues and mentors. Nine years later, I watch as my own cohort of study abroad students feel that same joy and curiosity that I continue to feel today; I experience new perspectives and grand ideas again, among the recognition and the frustrations that we have with our built environments back home; and, I trust again that another cohort of ‘Designing Cities for People on Bikes’ is going to build upon the last and make our homeland a better place for all.

Full circle, indeed.