New Begining

Tomorrow I start nursing school. Eleven months of intensity leading to a new career (arguably my first career) as a nurse of some kind or another. RN BSN. More letters to put behind my name, to go along with the others already there like EMT, WFR, BLS, and AWLS. They said during orientation that if you drop your pencil while taking notes in class, don’t stop to pick it up off the floor or you’ll be two weeks behind when you sit up again. So this should be interesting, being a student again.

I am moved into my new apartment, 2 bedrooms is more than I need by myself, but they didn’t have any vacancy in 1 bedrooms when I called. Being finally situalted, it is an interesting scene. On one hand, the layout and décor is more mature and less cluttered than ever before. On the other hand, my frugality and lack of income here means I have aquired my grandparents couch and recliner, and my book case is two boards and five milk crates. Still, the place is starting to feel homey.

Now, time for goals (not resolutions) for this year. Actually the time for this was 9 days ago, on January 2nd, but I didn’t have them worked out yet, though I did mark the day. I tried to look back at 2008, but couldn’t find any record of goals made last January. This is both odd and reassuring; odd that I didn’t set any, reassuring since I didn’t remember them anyway. As for 2009, the following:
- Do 100 pushups every day
- Complete a crossword puzzle (lifetime goal is the New York Times Sunday edition, but we’ll work up to that one.
- Be able to play one song on the guitar well enough that it is recognizable as music
- Solve the rubix cube from memory alone (best time of 3 minutes 11 seconds still requires the use of notes for one step)
- Learn to tie a tie
- Learn to make gravy
Too ambitious? I hope not. I’ve been successful at the pushups since mid-October. Started fooling with the guitar back around the same time, and am nearly there on the rubix cube. So not as ambitious as it looks. Once I get started setting goals though, it is hard to stop. So maybe one more: become a licensed nurse.

Letting go

Left Los Angeles a little over a week ago. I don’t really consider that to be a “letting go” however, since I wasn’t really holding on to it. Sure, some aspects were fun, and contrary to the myth, there are in fact 3 or 4 cool people there. I’ll miss the incredible selection at grocery stores (literally almost any ingredient you can imagine was available within about 15 miles radius), and the funky ethnic neighborhoods and restaurants (Brazilian, Thai, Armenian, Sri Lankan, Iranian, Russian, etc), and the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica where I watched the performers and tried to perform myself before being booted out. But that is about it.

The real letting go involved things much closer to my heart. First, last, and most places in between: Risa. 11 months is a long time apart, though the perpetual optimist is angling for monthly rendezvous. I suppose we’ll get through it alright, with phone calls and letters (many, many letters) and the occasional visit. In fact I’m pretty sure we’ll get through it, since the first 6 months where we really got to know each other, I was on the other side of the planet exchanging letters.

Second was my program at NAU, my baby that I inherited as a premature newborn ready to die on the vine that I worked and sweated to develop into a national leader in Wilderness Medicine. In fact, to facilitate the hand off to the fellow that is taking over my job as coordinator and manager, I went back to Flagstaff to help teach the first 4 days of the latest class and ease the transition. As class was ending on my last day, we were reviewing homework and the day’s lesson, and I paused, for a moment longer than usual. They were leaning forward, anticipating some important insight about cardiac assessment in the wilderness, but no insight was forthcoming. I was just soaking it in, the sight and feeling of what may very well be my last experience for a long time standing at that end of a classroom. So I’ve got that mental snapshot to carry with me for awhile.

Lastly, it was Flagstaff, my home, and all the friends I’m leaving behind. As one who grew up on the move, Flagstaff was the first home I chose, the first place I voluntarily came back to after every adventure and excursion. This time however it is for longer than ever before, and even an eventual return is an uncertainty. I temper my feelings of loss and letting go with the thought that I am likely to return, likely to teach again, and will see my girl again before too long (though it will be too long). And I think of the words my friend Mattie used when she left Flagstaff, when asked why and wherefore, she responded: “to conquer new territory.”