My Solution Is To Walk
Two things of import happened this weekend. First, I celebrated one full year out of law school, which is sort of like celebrating one year being sober, except law school isn't nearly as fun as alcohol. I think in reality LAST WEEKEND was my one-year anniversary since I graduated the Saturday before Mothers' Day; but yesterday was the Class of 2008's Big Day, so I'm counting it as my anniversary. More on this later.
The other thing was, I went to the Aids Walk (unlike certain parties, who slept in past 11. Good job). It was a beautiful day for it. Last year's was dark and cold and miserable; the day came gray like smoke and left in pretty much the same fashion. But this year it was sunny and warm. The experience left me with a warm fuzzy feeling inside that I usually find so distasteful when experienced by other people.
A couple years ago I questioned the mentality behind the Aids walk. Your solution is to walk? And I still stand by some of my earlier criticisms. When I told my mother I had sponsored someone she asked, "So, what does that mean? Like she has to finish within a certain time?" No, she could not show up for all I know. If there was a competitive aspect maybe I'd have given more, because that's just how I roll.
BUT there was something touching about being at the event. Some people wore t-shirts that bore testaments to those who had fallen - "In memory of John, 1978-2003" - and it's hard not to be moved when faced by the human element of the statistics. And even though I spent most of the time circling the tents like an outlier I did find something about the event to be wonderful in all its bleeding-hearted simplicity. Even when the prancing fitness guru whose job was apparently to get everyone pumped for the walk started preaching "Isn't this a wonderful day to be alive? This is the best day of your life! Every moment is a blessing!" I permitted myself to overlook some of the various logical fallacies (and they were myriad) in his statements and accepted his good vibes into my heart.
My point is this: This is life after law school. No more anger (except when I'm driving). No more sadness (except over She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named). Yes, it was a wonderful day to be alive.