Please no WFR dreams. Please no High Sierra dreams.

I think I have said this every night before bed lately.

WFR dreams: Last week I took a Wilderness First Responder class in northern Wisconsin. I was immersed in the beautiful northwoods of Wisconsin near the small town of Boulder Junction. In the first lecture from my newly beloved teacher, Ann, I realized how little I knew about the human body. But, hey! with a little reading and learning, I was able to figure out a lot. Before when I would have guessed immediate death upon someone who had fallen from a big rock or vomited upon seeing blood gushing from a femur sticking out of someones skin, I now understand that the human body is fairly resilient. After a week of bloody simulations and the practicing of hundreds of spine-stable log rolls, puke-rolls, splinting, PAS-ing, I feel like I have a much better understand of the workings of the human body.

BUT, unfortunately every night last week, my dreams were filled with blood, guts, death, hypothermia, anaphylaxis, and whatever other crazy things my brain cooked up. So, my hope for now on is that I would have no more of these terrible dreams.

High Sierra dreams: Why is night the loneliest part of a day? Before falling asleep every night the week I got home from school, I would think about the fantastic life I enjoyed for the first few months of this year. And for some reason, it made me sad. So, I've been trying to figure out why such a great thing could make me so sad. And here's what I've discovered: High Sierra was perhaps the one time in my life I have felt completely comfortable being myself. Something about that place, the people, the hap-happenings...just made me feel so much like...well, me...if I could dare to say I know who "me" is.

I think I experienced what community is for the first time--something that was never created in family or school or church or friendships or any social situation I've ever been in. And I liked it a lot. AND, the sadness I think comes from thinking or believing that maybe I won't ever have something like that again. But, I now see that that is ridiculous. I am so incredibly glad that these past 5 months have been part of my life...but now I am excited about what comes next and what is to come from now on (however long that will be). I will not forget the friendships, the learning, the teachers (in form of author, professor, friend, mountain, or random folk), the laughter (and there was a lot), the many accents, or anything else that pops into my mind daily that brings back these dear memories.

BUT...no more sadness, no more sad dreams.

by the by, on my way home from Wiscaaansin, I met my broski at an Imogen Heap concert. She was...I can't think of an appropriate word, dang it...crazy, I guess. Her gestures and dancing were just so silly...so HER! But her music and the whole performance was very ethereal. It made me want to sit in an aquarium in front of the jellyfish exhibit for hours on end.