Falling Softly
Again in Bellevue for a short moment. In a few hours I'll leave for Portland, overnight there, and head back to Eugene. Back to work, back to school, back to mentorship and editing. I'm still nervous about the coming weeks but now I think I have what it takes to make it, alone or otherwise.

The past week has been one of adventure and contemplation. The day after I flew into Helena, we packed up and drove to Bozeman, where we stayed in the Silver Forest Inn, a bed and breakfast about a quarter mile away from the Bridger Bowl ski area. Three out of the five days we were there, I downhill skiied- a feat for me because I only learned to downhill last year. Bridger was nicer than Discovery, where we went last year, and had more "green" runs. I think I ran most of those (they had some nice long ones) and a few blues. We even went to the top of the mountain once... that was... interesting.

Other than that, I played in the snow a bit as it got progressively deeper. Justin and I made friends with the innkeeper's golden retriever, Bailey, who kept us company outside. Sometimes it was nice just to sit and watch the snow fall softly. Not that it was terribly quiet indoors, the whole Inn was rented out by the Speyers and about sixteen of their friends/ friends' children. The power went out once or twice, prompting sudden games of poker by candlelight or capture the flag... (which I didn't ever get around to playing) Mostly, I just read a lot. Took in some more of the "Two Towers", finished "The Red Tent", "Wise Child", and flipped through "Fast Food Nation." My pick of the week was "The Four Agreements," a "Toltec Wisdom book." Basically Zen self-help. It wasn't very well written, in my opinion... but I recommend it to anyone who is having trouble forgiving themselves for something. That and good conversation with Bev Magley ; )

I don't neccesarily live a quiet life in any respect, though I know my past is a lot less screwed up than many people my age. I have a pretty active mind and I can make an adventure out of anything. I can also contemplate a wall for hours. I think a lot. I think too much, sometimes, and I get caught up punishing myself for stupid things. Now, however, after a week of contemplation [and some moments of murderous rage... ahem] I can finally feel a sense of quietude creeping back up upon the borders of my mind. I feel rested and not neccesarily yet at rest- but getting close. It's easier to see the world when you're not convinced it revolves around you.