this seems to be a trend - losing track of time, filling every second, forgetting to blog. in korea, blogging was a release for me, putting things and feelings and emotions and experiences into words, taking the time to reflect on everything. and now i'm already done with my first year of grad school and i'm half an epidemiologist and time. just. flew.
since february: i flew to chicago for a girls weekend, i turned twenty-five, we road-tripped through michigan to the lake for spring break, i found oberon release day parties in mpls, we danced to judah & the lion, morg came for a visit, my master's project development started, we celebrated birthdays, we went to the conservatory for some green, we spent earth day at the zoo, we went to a twins game, and i got a new job - and all of this was squeezed between my 15 credit hours, 10 hours of internship, and 20 hours of work at the coffee shop. i am most successful when i fit things in, when everything joins together, when it doesn't seem like there's enough time.
and now, heading into summer - we celebrated being almost master's by camping and hiking and exploring duluth. we spent time on the edge of cliffs, along lake superior, and wandering rooms of a spooky mansion. we made s'mores around campfires on cold nights. and we slept soundly and contentedly like sardines.
looking forward - to working at the food protection and defense institute writing case studies about heat waves, droughts, and floods. discovering the cascading impacts of the disasters and the effect they have on the global economy or food supply. taking classes on GIS, emergency management, and vaccines. already spending every free moment outside by the lakes being in the sun.
i've begun to realize how much i miss korea. the freedom, the mountains, the food. i miss traveling hours by myself on trains, rendezvousing in seoul on busy side streets eating grilled cheese and drinking green juices. i miss the bustle of the big, big city. i miss the quiet of the countryside and the rice paddies. i miss having a roof to nap on. i miss the kids, and my co-teachers, and my friends. i do miss it. i didn't love it, not while i was there, and not as i look back on it - but i loved what it gave me: freedom, courage, strength. i loved that i was brave. i loved that i was bold. i loved that i was different.
i'm making an effort to be bold again, to go to the lakes, to go to traverse city, to see the people i haven't seen, to be wild. i'm trying to be uncomfortable, independent, and adventurous. to be open and free and willing. to work on cultivating peace and being content and exploring the corners of where i am now. i'm trying to be amazed again. like i was in korea. by grocery stores, and trains, and mountains, and green, and asia, and kimchi.
and i realize i am amazed, here. by the people - how they think, how they experience, how the see things differently. how they feel. how they are. the people here are what amaze me, the people i study alongside are really, really cool. they're adventurous, and they've traveled the world, and they love infectious diseases, and they want to do really public health-y things. they've come from all over, but they all meet me here and share with me here. and i am impressed by them. and i look forward to another year with them.
to a summer of weekends in the woods, in yurts, in tents, around fires. to days in classrooms, in cubicles, in the field. to pushing ourselves and stretching ourselves and growing ourselves and learning ourselves. to everyone doing really amazing things this summer.
