My life in Boulder has been packed away. What can be physically placed in boxes has, what responsibilities there were have been relinquished, and time has been spent with loved ones. What I am most grateful for has been the time spent with those who give me the continual inspiration to follow my heart and believe in my vision. To say that I will miss Boulder would be a lie. I am grateful for the growth that this place has forced me to confront and the challenges that continue to arise. Like a belligerent obnoxious relative, I love Boulder, but at this time I sure as hell don’t have to like it.
I will miss the deep existential conversations with people who share the same vocabulary. I will miss the casual ease of touch with strangers. I will miss the walks in the chill air, the sunshine on the foothills, and the plethora of coffee shops with almond milk and gluten-free pastries. Leaving Boulder is leaving the past behind. For those of you who are panicking that I am leaving for good, no worries, I will be back for my last year. Boulder is not home. It is a lily pad floating amidst the pond of possibility. I am ready to jump to the next lily pad. To leave behind the self that I choose to no longer identity with. The self who was so caught up in non-egoic ways of being that became willing to concede and compromise values. The self that lost sight of what it means to say no.
While I rode away from the mountains and headed down to the flat plains near the airport, I was torn between the desire to shed tears or give Boulder the bird. I did neither and instead said a blessing and turned my back on the past in order to face the present and future. I don’t know what the next lily pad(s) holds, but I am in the midst of the leap and the air above is refreshing.