BACKSTORY 3: Finding my life slogan

Moving to Boulder, Colorado for my second year of college was definitely an upgrade from the small college town of Clinton, NY. There were people everywhere on every corner and my new dog Sadie and I would walk for hours, and whatever the weather, I wouldn’t miss a walk with her twice, sometimes three times a day. We’d wander around the neighborhoods peering in people’s windows and daydreaming about life.

Sadie dog and I went on a lot of walks because our little room in the basement apartment was affordable yes, but also quite claustrophobic, which magnified my sensitivities to everything and everyone. But the walking was nice and I loved it.

This town was a little bit hippie and new age but still really grounded, which was a nice blend. You’d have a bookstore coffee shop next to an expensive art gallery, next a new age shop selling decorative feel good nick nacks like buddha statues, smell good candles and posters with quotes for your wall. So many opportunities for college students to sample different ways of expressing themselves.

Hamilton College in upstate New York didn’t have that. If you knew who you were when you arrived and brought your own decorations, great. But if you didn’t bring anything, sorry, the one hardware store and local coffee shop probably wouldn't be where you’d be filling your self expression needs. But Boulder was alive with opportunities and it felt like a town that supported and nurtured a young population of college kids, me in particular, and I felt myself responding to my space and wanting to express myself.

I started with clothes, and stuck with earth tones, mostly solid colors, and you wouldn’t see me without a scarf around my neck. One sunny Fall afternoon while walking Pearl Street with Sadie, I saw a picture in a display window of a store called ArtMart. I stayed outside for about 2 minutes reading the words and staring at the image, which was perched against a window display shelf. It was a big black kanji symbol on a beige background with the words “Never forget the pleasure of the journey,” written in calligraphy beneath the kanji.

The words struck me deeply. I’d been on a HUGE journey so far and I was just beginning to decide again who I wanted to be and where I wanted to go, and every single piece of the journey I’d been on held a lesson for me.

The picture reminded me that I needed to have gratitude for it ALL, the JOURNEY, not just the beginning or the destination.

With that realization I remember nodding my head that I wanted to own this picture in the window, and then tying Sadie dog’s leash around a pole right outside the window and looking her right in the eye and telling her to “STAY.” At this point in our 3 month or so relationship, she’d never left my side, or more like I had never left her side in a public space. So this was a big trust thing in a lot of ways for us both.

I entered the store, walked right around to the window, lifted the picture out from the display window and went right up to the line and I was about 3 people from the front. I didn’t look at the price, but I’d grabbed two $20 dollar bills before leaving the house hoping that would be enough to cover any spontaneous purchases I had along this long walk.

Over 10 minutes passed and I felt my chest begin to tighten indicating I was nervous, and from a distance I saw a homeless man leaning down and talking to Sadie dog and she was laser focused all the way through the buildings, through the glass, through the people and was looking right at me. I pointed at her and held my hand up as a way of saying, “hey girl, I see you, I’ll just be a second longer.” I could hardly breathe by the time I reached the counter and I slammed both my $20 dollars on the countertop like it was the last money I ever had. Apparently the picture was $29.99 so I was relieved, I smiled, and I took the bag with my new picture in it and ran out the door to find Sadie standing at the length of her leash trying to get to me.

I felt so honored to have this dog’s protection and devotion.

I smiled at the homeless man who told me what a good dog I had and I smiled and waved as I walked away agreeing with him and smiling down at her. Yes. She is a good dog, and we went home and I hung up my new poster on my wall in my tiny room just off the laundry room, with a push pin in each corner.

“Never forget the pleasure of the journey.”

Got it.

I had a place to live, a dog and a schedule of classes, but I didn’t know anyone yet other than my roommate Mandy who’d moved from Hamilton College with, and my sister’s boyfriend’s brother and his friend, who shared the third bedroom in our house. Though I think it was more like a 2 bedroom house with a storage room, and I was in the storage room.

Next item on my to-do list of my new life in Boulder, Colorado at University of Colorado was meeting people and making new friends. Sure I could meet people in classes, but what else. A Sorority? Hmm, okay, maybe. So I tried it. Or more like I went to the information session on sororities, and I snuck out of the meeting after 15 minutes knowing it wasn’t my thing.

So how else does one even make new friends on a huge campus in college? I didn’t have the dorm connection, we didn’t have next door neighbors our age, I hadn’t picked my major yet and I didn’t play any sports other than kayaking. But I didn’t know if kayaking even counted as a sport, because it was not recognized on campus and I had to seek out the guys who were paddling together from going to the shops. It wasn’t that I was opposed to having friends, I just didn’t have much experience with seeking them out and making them. I’d kind of been alone for the parts of my life I could remember.

What do you do together as friends? And what do you talk about? These concepts felt like they came so easily for people, but to me it seemed like I’d missed a very important class or lesson growing up, on how to relate to or be a friend. Plus I still didn’t feel very comfortable around people because so much of my life before the accident was a blur to me, so I was feeling out a lot of life for the second, but first time. All I wanted to talk about was the emotions and depth I was feeling in myself and in others, but that seemed to be the topic that no one wanted to spend any time discussing. And so I watched and listened for solutions.

There was an adorable cottage within view of the coffee shop on the hill I used to love to frequent and I’d watch the types of people coming and going from it and I liked what I was seeing. One afternoon I wandered over to the cottage to see what it was, and I found a group of women finishing up a meeting in the front room, and they warmly greeted me. This was where one went to learn about “Women’s Studies.” That was it. I needed to learn more about women in order to understand them.

I proceeded over to the community board where I saw job listings, roommate requests, info on rallies that were going on and the entire board had a general feeling that it housed information that mattered, and 1 particular ad stood out to me. The Boulder County Rape Crisis team was looking for volunteers to work their hotline. I felt a sense of purpose seeping through my veins and I immediately called the number listed and it turned out they were having a meet n greet that weekend and I was invited to attend. This felt like an in.

I immediately felt at home when I walked in the door to their party, was offered wine, juice or water and I noticed that it felt like most of the people had known each other and been a part of this group for years. I loved seeing the sisterhood and 1-2 men circulating about. I got to hear about why each of these volunteers stayed with the Rape Crisis Team, what kind of bonds they had with each other and how fulfilling it was to help a woman in need after an assault. I was in.

I spent over 2 years working with them.

And because I now spent a lot more time at the cute women's studies cottage, I decided that women's studies and its sister study, sociology, would be my majors and my focus. I loved what I was learning. I got to read about different cultures of women and how they experience the world and I thought about how fun it would be to live some time in another country…

Little did I know that 15 years later I’d be moving to Costa Rica. And it was quite the journey to get there…as you’ll continue to learn as we move along the story poco a poco.

But that Kanji picture that I picked up on Pearl Street in Boulder that day stayed with me as my companion, and it was the first picture I ever had framed once I moved to Park City in 2001. It also became featured as part of the logo of the Align Spa in 2006 and the original picture can still be found on the wall in the spa's lobby. As I write this, that picture and I have been together for 26 years...and it continues to remind me to never forget the pleasure of the journey. Onward we go.

Cheers,