I am heading back to W&L in the morning. I'm sorry I haven't blogged much; if you're still reading, thank you. I should be able to blog more as the school year gets under way. But now, I suppose I ought to take this opportunity to reflect a bit on things as Year Two nears.
I have been thinking a bit on if and how I've changed, relative to this evening a year ago.
I now have the first quarter of a Washington & Lee education to stand on, which is a nice feeling. I am certainly feeling less apprehensive about going back, because I know what awaits me. I'm excited for the classes I'm going to be taking this Fall Term (one on Shakespeare and one on Aristotle especially). I'm excited to be getting back to competitive college golf--I'm on a mission to become more even-keeled and more consistent as a golfer. I'm going to be living with roughly a dozen and a half of my brothers in the Lambda Chi Alpha house, which is going to be a blast. Believe you me, dear readers: I did not think I'd be in a fraternity at this time last year. Narrow-minded, I thought I was above the "Greek scene." How foolish of me to generalize fraternities as havens of alcohol slurping and little else! I have found much, much more in my band of brothers, and I am excited to be living with them.
I surprised myself today as I was packing. I was looking through a closet downstairs for something (I don't remember what...it wasn't there, anyway) when I spied a box of my old toy cars and some old toy racing track that I'd not laid hands on in at least three or four years. Seized by an enormous urge to play, my eyes went wide. I pulled the bag of tracks out, threw together a little loop-de-loop and had a bit of fun watching the wind-up Darda car whiz around for a few minutes. The experience was extremely invigorating, but a little eerie as well. It reminded me that I am the same as I was a year ago in a very fundamental way: I still cling to the past in order to artificially delay the future for even a few minutes. My yearning for my comfort zone reared its head subconsciously. Instinct took over in the form of a little adrenaline rush at the sight of the cars and the tracks. Ten years old again, I crawled around on the floor, assembling my little track, eager to watch the car zip up and down and around. But after three years idle, the little wind-up motor wasn't as energetic and the wheels weren't as friction-free as they were all those years ago. I left the tracks strewn about the floor and came upstairs to continue getting ready to reluctantly distance myself a little more from that rambunctious little kid who didn't quite appreciate the awesome simplicity of his youth.
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