Retreat

I had a pretty lackluster weekend. I didn't do anything exciting or make much progress on anything important (other than watching The Rock twice in two days). I made up for it these past two days.



My class of analysts and I went on retreat. It kicked off with a lecture about personality types. I missed out on taking a test to figure out which one I am (16 combinations), but was able to make it entertaining anyway. We were broken into teams to play a game. Immediately, I knew we had to win. It was a fairly stupid game, though it illustrated its point, that pulled the rug out from beneath the team (ours) that laid down a 20+ point margin of victory by applying different meanings to synonyms. We should've known. In any case, trash was talked, jokes were made, rhetoric was spewed, and lessons were learned. And when it was all said and done, we had been in a room together long enough that we were all in a good mood about leaving to do more exciting things. We proceeded to drive a few hours and set up at two cabins someplace incredibly close to Mt. Baker. Through the combined efforts of KJ and myself, everyone agreed to refer to our 15-passenger van as Prancer Goodspeed. We spent the night, and early morning, grilling, laughing, and playing games, and got up with just enough time to make the 12pm checkout deadline.

The rafting trip was down the Nooksack river... so many jokes. It was a class 2.5, but very front-loaded. After the first half hour, things calmed down and I spent the rest of the ride trying to splash other rafts and looking for bald eagles. You'd think that after a lifetime of living in the states, these birds wouldn't arouse any kind of excitment. Think again. First, they're gigantic. Second, they manouver suprisingly well through the air. They're beautiful birds.

The ride home was surprisingly quick. By this time, almost all formalities had been thrown out the window. We all swore and gestured at drivers who drove too slowly, and Andrew's aggressive driving and Prancer's daunting stature helped scare drivers out of our lane. We made incredible time.

This morning an obituary went out to our listserve:

PRANCER GOODSPEED.
Returned 8/7/07.
Leaves behind family of 16, gray interior, and ability to switch 4 lanes at one time.
Message from the late before its passing: “Beep.”


Good times.

Turning 24

Two weekends ago I was in San Fran, seeing friends so very dear to me. I spent last weekend in Vancouver debauching. Yesterday I got reviewed on my performance on the last 6 months of my work.

If there is one thing that is abundantly clear after this first year out of school , it's that you must take charge of life lest you become subject to it. I guess this is something I've practiced most of my life without really understanding its consequence. I'm not sure when in school I lost sight of this truth, but something has made damn sure I am aware of it now.

Yes, it has now appeared twice as the theme in television shows I watch regularly. And yes, travelling does not necessarily equate to taking action or directing you life, but these are really the only hard facts I have to corroborate a renewed, old perspective. It really has come to frame everything again.

I've mentioned/alluded to my fears surrounding my loss of passion before. The idea in its extreme forms still terrifies me. But it's not how I feel now. Time will continue to pass. The challenge is to not fight it, but to accept it. To bestow just the right amount of importance upon it. To embrace one's humanity. To be cognizant of consequence. To mind the long-term while living for the short-term. To feel empowered.

I feel good. I feel great.