I have begun to wonder if my life is starting to repeat itself in four-year cycles. Honestly. Five days ago I could have sworn I was riding the Tube in London when I was really just taking the Max home from the airport. And today when I went to a park for lunch, it felt exactly like Paris on the day I went to the Monet museum alone in my introspective reverie-of-just-absorbing-Paris-by-myself moment. But seriously, everything was the same (minus the crepe I treated myself to in Paris) -- the air, the floating conversations, the park benches, the cool winds pushing through the trees. Maybe Portland just has a European feel this time of year.
I sat down and watched a pro bocce player practice today while I inhaled my peanut butter and jam sandwich. I don't think I've ever seen someone play bocce before and maybe its European flavor is what helped me feel so much like I was in another place and time. I was surprised when a man that the bocce player was talking to spotted me from across the courtyard and said, "I know you." He did, as it turns out. He's a member of my bishopric in my new ward. So we sat together on the wooden planks that line the bocce pits and ate our peanut butter and jam sandwiches together. It's always nice to see a familiar face.
So, as I've been thinking about this four-year cycle of my life it's not too disappinting when I reflect on the European adventures of 2002. But then I think ahead and I wonder if it will really be three and a half years before I fall in love again.