I\u2019m in Boulder, Colorado.<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve been deferring that declaration; hesitant only because not even I know what that means.<\/p>\n
There are certainly known variables \u2013 like that I\u2019m broke, that I love my job and the people with whom I work, and that there is hardly a healthier place in the States for me than this sunny and snowy little town \u2013 that are easy enough to factor in and out of the equation. Less quantifiable, is the feeling that I\u2019m on vacation; roaming around Disneyland, waiting in lines for rides with bags of goodies and big eyes; seeing (and enjoying) but not quite believing and having a sneaking feeling that while I\u2019ve got my hands up in the air, Time is pick-pocketing me from behind. But since the last few months spanned years in memories, I guess I have some to spare and won\u2019t fret over a little lost change.<\/p>\n
And I am happy. I know. It\u2019s crazy. And if I spin around in my head and catch the shadow running, I can see that I feel guilty for feeling happy here \u2013 which is plainly ridiculous (right?). Don\u2019t worry. Half of my happiness is rooted in the fact that I AM on vacation. That\u2019s another constant for the equation: even if my \u201cpath\u201d treads occasionally through it, I still see no potential for a long term commitment to this continent. Actually, it\u2019s exactly because I AM engaged to a lifelong pilgrimage that it\u2019s so easy (now) for me to flirt with and court this country.<\/p>\n
So I\u2019m here. And, (turning around real fast; watching it flee)\u2026 happy. In my office, I\u2019m surrounded by an inspiring community of people who share my travel history, living ethic, and personal mission statement. After work, I have salsa, break dancing, (new) art classes and I just signed up to volunteer with three different local community outreach programs. At home, I have a black lab who smothers me with kisses from feet to face every time I walk through the door and barks and moans in anticipation of the \u201cw\u201d word (which excites me equally). And only in Boulder do the clouds graciously dump six inches of snow and then quickly move along and make way for blue skies and sunshine to do that thing where they make the whole world glitter and glow.<\/p>\n
I guess there\u2019s always a chance I\u2019m fooling myself. Maybe, at the core, I\u2019m miserable and just wearing a faux coat of luxurious delusion. Or maybe I really have just turned a corner and found that the calm confidence of knowing I\u2019m always on my way again to another side trumps my old need to have a fire chase me there. I\u2019ve heard that accumulations of experience\/years can do that kind of thing to a person.<\/p>\n
France to Senegal to India to Colorado; I wonder if it\u2019s the leapfrogging of extremes that\u2019s leveling my experiences of reality all to the same shade of gray? I think I get it now, why the wise men all hang out in caves. It\u2019s not indifference. It\u2019s acceptance and it\u2019s faith. It\u2019s not that it doesn\u2019t matter. It\u2019s that it already makes sense. And it\u2019s not about the numbers or even isolating the variables; it\u2019s simply knowing the equation exists. And maybe that\u2019s a clue to the mystery of how I always did so well in math, but never learned a single solid thing? If I\u2019ve lost you, don\u2019t worry; I think I\u2019ve lost myself as well. But for what else are Sunday evenings other than long diddle-doddling rambles as the above?<\/p>\n
*****<\/p>\n