The danger is finding myself slipping right back into the depths of the Yang rather than acknowledging what my Yin is offering me in terms of better thoughts, memories and emotions.
With that in mind, if you were to ask me to step back from all the crap I've dealt with in the last three years and define one of the best memories I have from that time, it's this photo.
Actually, it's a lot of the photos I took that September day in 2011, but I'm most comfortable showing off this one for reasons which are entirely my own.
I've been out to the Columbia River Gorge many times in my life and for good reason. In terms of pure natural beauty and splendor, you're hard pressed to find a better place in this part of the continent. If you ever come out to the Pacific Northwest, it's definitely a destination spot. Surprisingly, my friend Katie, who's been to pretty much every place outside the U.S. that I've ever wanted to go, had been my classmate at Pacific and the best friend I'd made there, somehow hadn't.
So I offered a proposition. Before she started her senior year, on the last decent weekend of weather we usually get up here before the rains come, I'd be her guide and take her on her first trip out there.
*Editorial Note: In the interest of full-disclosure, I will also cop to an act of bribery insofar that I promised at the end of the trip, we'd stop in Cascade Locks at a little drive-up shop called The Penguin, which is one of the few places I know of above the 45th Parallel to still sell soft-serve ice cream. I regret nothing.
Because I wanted to get an early start that day, and because at the time we lived about an hour away from each other, Katie and her four roommates agreed to let me camp out on their living room couch the night before. And I suppose it was out of a sense of thanks for allowing a guy to camp in the middle of a college apartment shared by five women (Get your head out of the gutter right now, please.) I made dinner for all of them that night.
I brought my wok, cooked up some homemade stir-fry which seemed to go over well despite my constant overthinking that I might have somehow screwed it up, and even did the dishes afterwards.
Now I suppose one could say I was doing this to curry favor and that's a fair observation to make. I also did it because I wanted to. One of the true passions I've discovered in myself during the last three years is I love to cook, and I love when I can share what I cook with friends. Since I hadn't tried it in a long time by that point, I figured why not give it a shot and see what happens.
I got three sincere compliments for it, so it was well worth the effort.
The next morning, Katie and I headed off to the Gorge, with a brief detour to my brother Matt's house for me to pick up some tech junk I needed since it was on the way. We spent the next six hours walking, hiking, photographing and exploring places even I hadn't gone to, along with mountains, waterfalls, ravines and landmarks. The weather, as the picture will illustrate, was gorgeous and I thank it for cooperating as it did.
And I kept my word and we did stop at The Penguin for ice cream. But as we placed our order and they rang it up, as I put my $20 on the counter, Katie slapped her card down next to it. The cashier, suddenly vexed by the situation, opted to take her card instead of my cash, which she found quite amusing.
I, however, did not and expressed my disdain in the matter befitting the best display of mock chivalry I know. It got me a raised skeptical eyebrow and a hard jab in the ribs for my complaining. I told her at the time it just meant I'd have to buy her ice cream at some other time. In actuality, I didn't care. The day was too perfect to spoil with such trivialities.
We sat on a nearby lawn, ate our rapidly melting cones and didn't say a whole lot, because there wasn't a whole lot to be said. I drove her back to the school soon after as the sun was starting to go down and that was the end of the day.
Why does that stick out to me so much? Because it was the first time since my life had imploded that I truly, genuinely felt like I was going to be okay. That I could still interact with people who could become friends and I could go do something special with someone I cared about and not think about having to consider if it was a "date" or anything like that. It was just something fun I got to do with one of my best friends because I wanted to and I dared to try.
Trust me, there are far worse ways to spend a gorgeous Saturday afternoon.
I wish we could've done more things like this, but it actually was one of the last things we did together. That is something I regret very much and I haven't been back to the Gorge since.
It doesn't change the fact that when I think of this day, though, it makes me smile and it makes me happy.
It was good day. A fucking amazing day. Nothing will ever change that.
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