Back in the District

After a much needed break from the insanity that consumed my life for the last few months, I am back in DC with a renewed sense of self and some perspective. Last semester consumed me in more ways than one and I was beyond grateful to find some respite in my childhood home and back in Boulder where the people are ingrained in my heart, the mountains embedded in my soul and the memories abundant. The one place I did not return to was the city I love more than all others (even Paris), my dear home Chicago. Between returning to the tristate and the Rockies, that grand old town got lost in the mix and I find myself missing it more than ever despite the icy winds and grey skies that undoubtedly fill the air this time of year. With all of these places that genuinely feel like home, it is hard to understand why DC hasn't begun to join the ranks. Perhaps it is because Pence Library is hardly representative of DC as a whole, or perhaps it is that I rarely leave the house without a backpack full of casebooks, but more likely, it is because deep down I haven't really given it a chance. One of the aspects of traveling that I adore most, is that if you find yourself in a destination that doesn't suit you or your mood or your budget, you can just hop on a bus or train and wake up in a whole new reality. With that mindset, it has been hard to accept that I am somewhat glued to this locale, no bus or train can take me away permanently and although I have met some fantastic people, the overall vibe just doesn't do it for me on a daily basis. Openness is the key to yoga, to Buddhism, to travel, to art and yet I have not been open in my approach to this new life. Ties that bind me to various other places and faces have made it hard and somewhat maddening to accept this new reality. It is with openness that I am going to try to accept this new place, filled with a multitude of transplants like myself, imbibed with the energy of activism, the popped collars of parties I never plan to be a guest of, poverty that is hidden in corners of the city and a wealth of museums I am yet to explore. As I await my grades, I am filled with a sense of hope - that I will learn to love it here or that I will be in the top 5% of my class and get out of here with my sanity intact. In the mean time, despite the serious nature of law school classes and the pressure to excel at the expense of my peers, I hope to grow beyond what law school shaped in me last semester. Rather than define myself as a law student, I hope to retain my identity as a philosopher of life, lover of French culture, outdoor loving environmentalist yogi with an overly intelligent dog ever faithfully by my side. Now, I'm off to read criminal law, who doesn't love a little light reading with their morning waffles?