A Weekend in the Hills.

Route 77 to 17, then 91 forever, bringing me to 103 (remembering that one right turn), leading me to Route 7, which carries me to a past home of mine: Middlebury. 

It’s been a year since I was up north amidst stone buildings, unlimited dining halls, and the picturesque hills surrounding campus. Why hadn’t I told many people of my quick weekend jaunt back to Midd? Sure, I posted it on Facebook... But who checks Facebook anymore really?

I guess it was really a fear, not knowing how it would be, being back at this home of the past. I’m coming on two years out of college. That, in it of itself, is pretty terrifying for some reason I can’t truly pinpoint. Is it an aspect of longing for school’s securities and excitement? Or maybe having to explain to everyone about the real world and how I’m spending the majority of my time brain-dead, serving ungrateful people drinks and food? Is it fear that I had lost my ability to hold an insightful conversation having had been away from so many passionate and intelligent people? 

Nonetheless, it felt weird going back by myself. Luckily, I was pleasantly surprised about how refreshing and revitalizing this quick two days was for me. I hung out with soon to graduate senior friends, partied with dance troupe buddies, chatted with swimming team-mates, listened to present a cappella members, and celebrated with musical theatre compadres. 

Having a little taste of college life reminded me of so many things really. Sure, there were specific stories of silly a cappella rehearsals, dances danced, meets conquered, and scenes created. But what I am most grateful for was uncovering my drive and passion to heal through the creative forces of the stage. I’ve lightly held onto this through my “almost one year” in the city. But the city can create an ego-centrism that has been halting at times, cementing weights to my feet, spinning my thoughts round and round in the fear of doing nothing. 

January became a lot busier than I was expecting. All good things (day-jobs, new ideas, seeing theatre, etc.), but simply unexpected when I was so focused on a bit different path I was hoping to take for the beginning of this new year. That’s what you gotta do in this city though: roll with it. 

Now I’m out of my own way. Time to go my own way. My way.