Straight Joyful

I'm feeling so much joy in this moment. Joy to have slept for more than ten hours last night, to have woke up to sunshine and clear skies after days of rain, joy to be sitting in the sunshine in a meadow full of wildflowers watching elk. And a whole lot of joy and giddy energy for this group of girls right now, all light and committed and hilarious. I left last night to go on break and they were teaching each other breakdance moves. My heart feels excited when I think about the possibilities, and also a little apprehensive when I think about the inevitable crash that will come.

On my mind I'm finding the vision fast, potentially moving to the boys' group, another intake in a few days, our little miss F, and the giant rain cloud slowly gathering off the eastern horizon. I think if working through the winter taught me how to sit with being anxious about cold and dark, then this summer will teach me about cold and wet. Right now the incessant storms leave me with a sense of foreboding and anger, but it also makes me realize the metaphor in it, how very literally the sun will come out again tomorrow, even if I'm pissed off and cranky in the meantime. We are laying over here today to manufacture some kind of wannabe solo experience, and I am still avoiding thinking about my own. Much less the suggestion that maybe I think about a shift into other groups besides the ladies. I mentioned to Ellen how lately I've been feeling resentful of the folk I know working with the guys or the adults for what I perceive as an easier work experience. The reality is, I'm resentful because we've had such a rough go for the last couple of months, and I get angry when I hear about others easy time of it. I've never worked elsewhere really, so a lot of my resentment happens because I don't really have any knowledge of the ups and downs of the other groups. I also don't really know how to handle my reactions to the tough groups of kids, I tend to internalize too much and get way too caught up in the outcome that I want and imagine rather than the process. I'm just not convinced how leaving would teach me any of those things. Though judging by how frightening the prospect sounds in my brain and in my heart right now, it would probably be a good thing, or the right thing.

Future Talk

Its Wednesday and this adventure is slowly winding down. It is both wonderful and super strange. I'm really glad the weather got a bit less fabulously awesome in the last couple of days, otherwise I'd really start questioning why on earth I ever left this place. But its cloudy and cool today and pretty humid, enough of a reminder of the last five winters to make me appreciate Colorado and Durango's 300 days of sunshine a year.

It's not that I miss Portland (I do), but being here after being away for so long has definitely clarified some things that I want in my life. Or, at least whatever turns into my next step after Durango. And I guess the heady realization that there will be a next step after Durango, Durango will not hold the next step itself. My next life will involve public transportation and culture. And I will be involved in culture. My next life will be closer to water, though I wonder how much I'll miss the desert when it's not part of my life. I'll bike regularly and use my car pretty exclusively for weekend adventuring. I will feel that I belong in the next place I live, not like I'm just blending in with the tourists and the transient college kids. There will be opportunities to use my languages, and affordable ways to learn about new things in my next life. There will be better bookshops and libraries and room for life outside of work and work folks. I will feel like I'm engaged in the place and in the process. There will be striking views and striking people. There will be things to do and access to wild places. There will be lots of green in my next life, or at least lots of wild and natural space. I wont feel so isolated.