Process of Illumination

Back in the first week of November, shortly after Club Natties, I made grandiose promises here to post on my reflections of the season and muse, as I often do, on our lot. I began writing a post about the grocery shopping experience and then went home to Madison for Thanksgiving week. I spent some quality time with many of the peeps I love, relaxed, and returned to Boulder.

It was a day after my return that I asked Mitch what the status of our house was. You see, we were living in an updated farmhouse on a gigantic lot in north Boulder, and from the moment we moved in we knew it to be temporary; the owners had designs to tear the structures on the lot down and develop 10 single-family homes. We were told we had until March, April should we be lucky.

Anyway, I asked Mitch, "So, any updates on the situation with the house?" Mitch, always so cavalier in his responses, replied "yeah."

"We gotta be out of the house by New Year's."

A little bit of background quickly. Shortly after regionals, mulling my future, I made a very big decision and decided to lay low with it until the appropriate time. I decided that I was going back to school, and not only that, but I was going to finish at Wisconsin. There are a few wrongs I want to right, school being one of them, my strained relations with my parents another. Being the eldest, and born during a very difficult time in my parents' young lives (20 years old, newlyweds, parents, med school students, strict Mexican upbringing), I cultivated a sense of fear of my parents expectations of me, and closed myself to them in an ill-conceived attempt at gaining some control over my childhood and protecting myself from their (perceived) disappointment in my shortcomings.

Back in October, I felt the luxury of time in telling my friends, and resolved to keep it a secret until January. Mitch's bombshell brought the clock to bear on my plans, and my timeline collapsed. So, rather than spend time writing here I spent it in conversation with my closest friends in Boulder, a bittersweet month-long goodbye.

Now my very existence in this sport, at least by paid UPA dues, is in limbo. As much as I have enjoyed the skills gleaned from a college degree in Ultimate, its applications off the field have been limited to lessons I've learned observing the people in it. The brain inside me says it's time to take a season off, or scale back my commitment and give school the full cup of my attention. The heart inside me continues to keep a few options open: a long-distance relationship with Bravo if they'd have me, a move to Sub-Zero, or a more senior role on Madison Frontline, where I might put to use what I've learned and pass it on to the next generation, and in all likelihood eliminate Machine at regionals and take the final bid from the Central. It's just so hard to walk away from this sport I love after having played my best season to date, had my best natties to date, and played my best game in finals. I am in my prime playing years right now. However, that decision rests a few months from now, and in these months I will tune my body so that I'll be ready for whatever option I choose.

So, where am I now, you ask? I quit my job at the school in Boulder, and gave a moving farewell speech that drew tears from no less than (and this isn't an exaggeration) 150 children sitting in the gym for our winter pep rally. If you know me this goes without saying, but if you don't, yes, I'm the 'cool' teacher that every one in school loved, except for the secretaries. Students and educators fucking love me. I left my high school team in the very capable leadership of Adam Chicken Simon, and gave away all my worldly possessions save what fit into one load of my car. Wardrobe halved, life quartered, friends kissed and embraced, I drove away from the mountains and found my way down to Los Angeles, where I am staying with great friend and current benefactor Bert Kang for the next several weeks. After that, a jaunt up to San Francisco to spend time with Alex, a return to Boulder in time to see the Hodags repeat at College Natties, and one final drive back to Middleton, Wisconsin, Money Magazine's #1 city to live in America, to move back in with my parents and, ironically, grow up.

Hopefully these next few months here in California will allow me the freedom and time to write that I lacked my last few weeks in Boulder, and give me the perspective and insight to not only wax poetic on this blog, but plan the next few years of my life out. For now, I sorely miss my brother, who has bravely chosen to stay behind in Boulder and carve for himself a niche separate from his bohemian older brother. I miss my friends, my Jen, my Degs, Bear, JV, etc, etc, etc... There are a lot of people I've been told to meet and spend time with here in LA, and I look forward to discovering the magic within them, but for what I'm worth I feel a bit lost without my mountain family.