01 December 2010

Oxford Folders

I attempted to clean our room today and stumbled upon an old friend: Oxford University.  In going through a box of old-ish clothes, I also found my folders of notes and photos and info sheets from the summer program I attended at Christ Church, Oxford in 2008, waaaaaaay back in the beginning of this blog, when it was called "Bolaskoxfordia" and I was globetrotting for the summer catching parasites in Bolivia, knowledge in Oxford, and falling deeper in love in Alaska.  It was interesting, like seeing the remnants of an old relationship.

The Oxford folders were worn on the sides from being stuffed in my frame pack while I was traveling, and then taking up residence with me at school and moving with me to Alaska...they were too important to me to pack up with the rest of the books I knew I wouldn't need in between college and grad school, and so I took them with me to Juneau knowing full well that I'd never use them.  When I picked them up this afternoon, feeling their smooth surfaces, I instantly missed it.  The feeling I had while I was there that I was part of something important, the optimism I had that I'd be back for grad school, the adventure of traveling internationally by myself (and the subsequent shock when I realized how lonely that was).  Gosh, those folders even smelled like nearly a millennium of academic excellence.  I could've guessed at the time that I'd be married a year after that, but I never thought that two years later I'd be staying at home, still in Juneau, hanging out with my cat and waiting on the birth of my first child.  At the time, I was discontentedly happy to be sitting through an afternoon class on the connections between postmodern philosophy, Trinitarian theology and wisdom literature, Skyping with Kip at night, and lugging my frame pack across High Street to catch a bus to London, cussing out the wet cobblestones as my flip-flopped feet slipped on every other one.  I was sad to be so far away from Kip and completely overwhelmed at the subject matter of what I was learning, but I loved every minute of it.  And I miss it.  It's not that I don't love my life now, but I do miss having something more complex to think about than diapers and dishes.  Just a thought.

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