I found a lighthouse shining through the fog of life. The lighthouse stood against the bone chilling waves of frigid air cast down from the Far North to bring misery to the Near North. The lighthouse was called Seward Cafe. Some lighthouses hold 10,000 candle power lamps to guide ships in from the stormy seas but this particular lamp was lit by something far more enlightening; something that drew me in like a moth to flame. That something was: the righteous practice of free refills on coffee so dark, so incredibly dark, so inhumanely dark, that light can hardly escape its gravity. I cannot applaud nor utilize the resource of free coffee refills enough. I sat there in complete contentment sipping my coffee, thoroughly convinced it couldn’t possibly get better than this. Then from the corner of my eye I noticed someone carrying an encyclopedia on a plate with what looked like syrup and powdered sugar on top of the book. What a cruel, cruel existence in which I am expected to concentrate on preparing for a presentation at the Student Outdoor Education Conference in Duluth, MN, while french toast slices the size of a volume of the Encyclopedia Britannica are carted around in my vicinity. I persevered with the thoughtful insights of Biz Must, Gartha Eummitt, and Brika Motcher to help keep my eyes on the task at hand and my drool off my keyboard.
We finished our presentation outline under the soothing sounds of the coffee buzzing through our veins. The final product will be on display, from our mouths this Saturday February 8th. I don’t know if you like how inspiration feels when it firmly roots itself in your mind. I do, and if you do too I suggest you get yourself within earshot of the Paddle Forward presentation at that SOEC event. After we shook hands, slapped backs, and applauded our preparation the fellowship disbanded. Then there were two, Brika and myself maintained our positions at the comfortable booth in the uncomfortably green-walled room. It seemed like the perfect time for me to spread out materials for my daily one hour of Russian language study. The papers blanketed the table, the pens flew as I wrote, and the headphones planted themselves resolutely in my ears so as to assist me in learning the proper pronunciations of words.
Some exploits are inexplicable, it can be truly difficult to decipher why exactly this particular thing should be explored. Russian happens to fall into that category for me. The history leading up to what makes Russia how it is today intrigues me, The Cyrillic alphabet confounds me, the Russian people are shrouded in mists of lore, and the countries geographical expansiveness calls to the explorer inside of me. The glorification of Russia in my mind makes me want to discover the truth. I treat a statement of grandeur as I would treat an exclamation of derision; I want to know whether the high handed opinion of others holds true to the reality of my own experience. All the conflicting reports I have read about Russia only make me want to see it for myself all the more. My perception of reality creates the reality I perceive.
thecereallife 