Living the Dream

Life has been good lately, really good. I'm feeling more content than I have in a while. I feel as if I can breathe easily and calmly, and what a gift that is. The theme that has seemed most prevalent in my life as of late has been my indefatigable state of transition. For most of the past two months (has it really been that long?) I haven't been able to shake the sense of feeling like a guest. I've been fine with it - kind of a permanent vacation, and frankly it will persist for a bit longer. Nonetheless, despite the fact that "I won't be at the Villa too long," and that "I won't really be at the bookstore for much longer," and especially that "I'll only have to clean these stairs 49 more times!" I'm determined to enjoy my time, however fleeting it may be, and to really appreciate this window of time.

Sometimes I do silly things. For instance, sometimes I look at what I'm doing right at the moment from a telescope of twenty years down the road. And so when I think about when I work(ed) at the bookstore, or read anna karenina (hopefully the entire way through) or bid farewell to my missionary brothers, I - without fail - refer to this period of time as the "summer before I went to Paris." Now I am fully cognizant that I have not in fact gone to Paris, so I could be making a complete fool out of myself, but that's the only way I think of it. I'm not really taking classes, so it's not necessarily my sophomore year. I suppose I could call it the summer after freshman year, but although I LOVED my life as a freshman, I haven't established enough distance between my current position and that time such that I am comfortable with associating myself so closely with it at this time.

And so, this crucial "summer before paris" is a time for me to make something of myself, or at least to do something mildly noteworthy so that it doesn't drift into the abyss of "life before my life began in france." But I am determined to make the most of it.

I've been discussing where I'll live once I get back with my brothers and sister, and I can feel the dust of transition stirring once again - only in the future tense. But part of me feels a slight twinge of elation at the notion of not settling. Rachel and I always discussed that I would spend more time off campus than on (and by on-campus, we meant here at all) and perhaps if that doesn't happen, and I don't see the world within the span of time between entrance and exit, I may as well explore the sights right under my nose. Also, part of my reasoning may stem from the belief that if I never actually collect dust anywhere by constantly stirring up my surroundings, I may feel as if I was never here long at all. Something to think about at least.

image via lelove