I’m at the Flying M in Boise about eight feet away from a professor whose class I just stopped attending about six weeks into spring term. For the ninth time in the past two weeks I feel compelled to cut off the ends of my hair with the next pair of scissors I find because they are dry even though I stole a finger-full of Molly’s expensive conditioner in the shower this morning. When I imagined writing this blog entry in my sleeplessness last night, I thought I would think of the first time I came to the Flying M alone my freshman year and wrote in my little pink journal. It has barely come to mind.
Even though I’m terribly broke I love the energy of this summer. I realized how much I enjoy my life here about two weeks ago. I was at Pair drinking martinis with Ryan; Devin called and I went outside to talk to him and I was just struck upside the head by bliss. Boise is becoming what I wanted it to be four years ago– full of energy and growth. I danced that night like I’ve never danced before. I felt completely unafraid…
Fear, or the lack thereof, has become the buzz concept of this summer. I’ve never made much room for fear in my life, so the fears that I have often go neglected. I am ashamed of them rather than okay with working through them. But I have this horrible fear of falling on eroded earth; I am convinced that my hiking boots won’t grip the ground, even though Devin has done it in front of me dozens of times.
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A phone call from Devin interrupted this entry. It has been a few days of sharp emotions, and today feels like a totally different entry than this one. So fear. Put that on hold. I’m starting a new entry.
