four years down, one final to go

It's incredibly strange to think that I am merely one final shy of the end of my academic career - at least for the foreseeable future. Although I admit that right now the "foreseeable future" only extends until about the 27th.

"How are you feeling?" everyone asks. "Are you excited to be finally done? What are your plans?" I usually reply with a smile and a shrug, which pretty much answers all three questions. How I'm feeling about it depends on the day. I'm torn between excitement at the prospect of a new and unknown future; sorrow at leaving a community that I love and am just starting to feel settled in; frustration at not being able to continue to study music here right as my interest and passion for it is building; and straight-up denial that any of this is really going on. On one level, it just doesn't make sense to me. Graduation? What does that mean? I'm supposed to know something now? For 17 years I have taken classes and soaked in information. Since before I can remember, my year has started in September and ended right around June. And now this shift out of academia is changing those familiar rhythms. I can't decide if I'm going to fall right in step with the new one or if it will take me awhile to adjust.

As for plans... well, I just don't know. I'm moving back to Anacortes for now. I'm working on a letter of intent for a ministry house that I'd like to open, to create a "home base" for the 20 to 30-year-olds in town. More on that later. I know that for the summer I will be working at the bookstore and hanging out with the youth group at church. Beyond that... who knows? But I truly am ok with those pages being blank.

For now, I have bigger bears to tackle: memorizing a semester's worth of various philosophers' ethical theories, internalizing seventeen centuries' worth of music history, and packing my life up so it can be moved 300 miles west. Onward!

Bloomsday!

For the uninformed, Bloomsday is an annual 12k (7.46 mi) race held in Spokane every year on the first Sunday in May. It's a pretty big deal in Spokane, and since I'm moving in 2 weeks I felt like it would be a good idea to participate this year. So, a few weeks ago, I called up my friend Michelle and said, "Hey, Michelle. Today's the last day to register for Bloomsday and I think we should enter." There was a short pause. "Uhhh... what? Okay... "

And we did. We ran/power walked (mostly power walked) all 12k and crossed the finish line victorious, having completed our first ever "big race."

We were pretty excited about it. I'm definitely looking forward to doing more of this type of thing in the future.

high-speed puddle-jumping?

I had a really good day today, for no particular reason. It was a deep and persistent good, full of potential: the kind of good that can only be expressed by spontaneously dancing to upbeat songs and smiling with friends as they talk.

This evening, I rode my bike to the HUB at around 8 to study. It had just gotten overcast, but the air was still warm from the sunny day.

When I left shortly after 11, it was raining. Hard.

What could I do? I tossed my bag into my makeshift milk-crate basket, squelched onto the sodden seat, and set off. It took me, oh, thirty seconds of riding through the rain to realize that home was not where I needed to be going right then. So I just rode. All over. I stopped at Mary's for awhile to say goodnight and tuck her in, then continued on my way. I must have wound around campus six or seven times before I finally made it home, dripping wet and hands stinging with cold.

I couldn't stop grinning; it was beautiful.
Happy Monday, everyone.

from distress to dancing

I was feeling pretty unsettled earlier today after figuring out what my schedule would look like this spring. This has come to be my start-of-the-semester ritual, it seems: I sign up for what seems to be a nicely manageable workload; I write it out on a calendar and have a moment of panic as I wonder what I've gotten myself into; and finally, I plunge into the semester and manage to get everything done somehow.

This evening, my panic-time was cut short due to my T/Th night class: Swing and Lindy Hop. Janie, the prof, is the most energetic, fun, and sassy woman you'll ever dance with. I was lucky enough to spend January with her in Turkey - she and her husband, Jim, were our professors for the trip - and now it will be fun to see her in her element. I've never taken a swing lesson before in my life, but I can tell you this: there's nothing like an hour and a half of dancing to kick worry out of your system. It's going to be a great semester.

a return to the (semi-) normal

Tomorrow is the first day of my last semester as a college undergrad. It will be nice to get back into a routine of classes, choir, and homework after 8 weeks away from it all. I should be in bed, but I'm not feeling too tired so I'm munching on chocolate-covered chickpeas, drinking water, and typing.

Turkey was amazing. The people I was with, the places that we visited, the knowledge and insights that we gained... it all combined into an experience that I know I'll be thinking through and learning from for a long time. I'm in the process of typing up my journal, and when I'm done I'll post some of it into a separate blog.

I flew back to Seattle on Tuesday the 23rd. I spent a week at home visiting friends and family, and then came back to Spokane last Wednesday. My roommates didn't return until today, so I've had the house to myself for the last four days. It has been restful and much-needed: last semester was packed, Christmas break was busy, and Turkey (although wonderful) was another month of zero alone time. I'm thankful that I've had this sabbath to regroup before spring semester.

Last night and tonight we had our "choir retreat," which is essentially two 3-hour practice sessions to get us launched into our spring repetoire. It was beautiful. It's hard enough to describe what it feels like to sing with a group like that; to describe how it feels to come back to it after 8 weeks away, or what it's like to sing through the Credo and Sicut Cervus and be a part of their exquisite harmonies, is impossible. It's like coming home.