When at 7,000 feet...

... don't assume that you can walk up stairs or jog for one block without getting out of breath... that is, unless you have been living at 7,000 feet or higher for a while and/or like to take long 10 mile jogs on a regular basis like my friend Freya.

Travels to Santa Fe... well... it was my third visit to this town, and my most lengthy stay yet. I love how stores welcome leashed dogs on their premises, but humans toting beverages are not allowed... or that dogs can come join you for your breakfast or dinner at a local restaurant. The sky is indeed huge. Huge and blue and beautiful. The mountains are a refreshing and captivating sight. The hikes are strenuous, often as a result of making your own trail through the shrubbery, reddish dirt and rocks, that test your drive and lung strength at some 8,000 feet. I read Act I of Waiting for Godot aloud with Lauren in the Houston airport. I was admonished by two 30-something women from Texas - complete strangers - to never get married, after incidentally ending up sharing a meal with them in an airport. Rousseau was more interesting than I had remembered, as I listened to juniors discuss it around the familiar seminar table. Apple blossoms are breathtaking against the backdrop of an adobe building, or a blue, blue sky. I swelled with nostalgia when discussing great books impromptu in a dorm stairwell. Or perhaps when I noticed the greek paradigms in the bathroom stalls for freshmen. I laughed really hard when watching The Graduate with a roomful of people equally amused. Getting hailed upon while soaking in a hot spa was a new experience. (The cucumber water was indeed a nice refresher after our visit to the Ten Thousand Waves.) I managed to parallel park - twice - without causing visible damage to anyone's vehicle... I even got to drive Freya's loveable tri-color Minnesota plated car around town, and enjoy the bumps and dust clouds while sweeping around unpaved mountain roads. I spent quality time with my Holga. I discovered that Whole Foods has really good iced coffee, and lament its absence from my city. I also lament the absence of Trader Joe's. I learned that if you lose your child's blankie, you need to stop apologizing otherwise your kid will never forget this terrible fact, and may never actually forgive you. Neither will the other airline passengers who get to listen to your child's screams for 2 hours. There was shared spontaneous prayer both early and late in the day. Tap water in Santa Fe is actually good. I discussed justice with Jake, faith (the faith, our faith) with Freya, and existentialism with Lauren. I read Act II of Waiting for Godot aloud in an empty common room with Lauren. I was Vladimir, she was Estragon; I was Pozzo, she was Lucky; and I got to call her both Gogo and moron, which amused both of us greatly. I also revisited The Social Contract by Rousseau, read short stories from Dubliners by James Joyce, a treatise on Hope by Josef Pieper, and almost completed a treatise on Love by the same. I was fortunate to have 10 minutes talking to Jared who called from Oregon and got stuck talking to me. I became obsessed with photographing orange couches,












shy friends,












beautiful hands,










shadows and words on the pages of books,











sunlit hair,










and adobe facades.












I forgot about daylight savings... but so did Freya. I ate green chile, middle eastern food while belly dancers invaded my personal space, blue corn tortillas while sitting in a sun room of the Shed with low ceilings and white orchids, a waffle engulfed in whipped cream, and one of the most amazing delicious dinners that I have ever had (and probably the only completely vegan dinner I've ever had...) which is to say, Freya can work wonders with sprouted grain pasta and avocados. I also drank more caffeinated beverages in 4 days than I do in a standard month. I verbally confessed my fixation with plaid pants. Although I conceded to Jake that the ubiquitous Johnnie chairs can eventually become uncomfortable, this is nothing compared to the hip bruises of sleeping on a carpetless dorm floor for 4 nights straight. After everything, whether fun or physically painful (as my sunburnt scalp reminds me), my money and time was well spent. Why? Because fellowship with favorite people, soul friends, and family in Christ - sometimes all one and the same - is very sweet.

And I didn't even miss the NCAA championship. Didn't even give it a thought. I think I am better off for that. Sometimes the Johnnie bubble is a good thing.