50 pound luggage max; emotional baggage need not apply

I have had a whirlwind three weeks in Oxford working at the local Starbucks, buying things I need for the trip, studying for and PASSING the exam to be a registered dietitian (I get to put RD after my name now!) and visiting with friends and family. I am about to walk the plank!

I am leaving for Mexico City tomorrow and am tying up several loose ends. Copy of passport? Check. Computer and cords? Check. Suspend cell phone? check. Luggage under 50 pounds? Barely! What I am really excited about, though, is ridding myself of some emotional baggage from a few hurt feelings and poor situations over the past two years.

In true ceremonial fashion, one of my best friends and I decide to host a "bye-bye bonfire" to start the next chapter of our lives with a clean slate. We write letters about past injustices and parts of ourselves we wish to part with and take a trip to the local woods. Because we're not actually allowed to be there after dark, we arrive at the park entrance at dusk, park, and ride our bikes to one of our favorite spots in the park; the dam overlooking Acton Lake. One of our bikes is changing gears on it's own accord so the peaceful evening is punctuated with the crunching sound of the chain and gears (ka-chung, kaaa-chung!) When we arrive, much to our chagrin, the place is swamped with people doing archery and making out on the benches. Not the best place for a magical ceremony! We go to plan B and bike to a different car entrance (ka-chung, ka-chung, ka-chung!) and bike to the trail head. It is getting dark as we park our bikes and begin to walk down the trail. I try not to remember the details of the blair witch project as we make our way to a different shore of the lake with our letters and our mini bottles of champagne. Our eyes adjust as we walk the familiar trail to the perfect sandy beach. There is a log for us to sit on and a few twigs about so that we can build a teeny fire to send our letters to heaven (or maybe hell? I don't know). We quietly build the small fire...there are boats on the water and noise carries easily across the water. We take turns reading our letters aloud and burning them and feel much lighter than when we started; we have let a lot go. We celebrate with a champagne toast and think that there is something missing....we stand up, grasp hands and shout "FREEDOM" at the top of our lungs across the lake, William Wallace style....BRRRRROOOOMMM. A boat motor starts, very close to our little (illegal) fire and my friend and I fall over each other grabbing our few belongings and race up the trail. The trail follows the edge of the lake for a while, so we don't stop sprinting until the trail went deeper into the woods. Giggling, we slow down and decide it couldn't have been better. We have our clean slate, felt a little bit like spies and have a good story to remember. We bike back to the car (kaaa-chung, ka-chung) and go in town for evening and get ice-cream!

If you're interested, my email is halarson@gmail.com

My next posting will be from Mexico City!