My last crazy year

I'm riding in a rented car with four women I've never met before. We're going to be school mates. But before school even starts, we're going out team-building in some forest somewhere in Connecticut. I'm looking through the window as we whizz across Manhattan, past the George Washington bridge, on this lovely sunny late summer morning. And I think to myself, a couple of days ago I was living in Golders Green, London, and now I'm a full-time student of Jewish text in this vast country so distant and so unknown to me. What am I doing here? Am I totally crazy? Well, I have been before and it seems to be happening again but I suddenly get a feeling that maybe it's happening for the last time. That when this year is over I will just want to be normal. Grow an anchor and let it bind me to a place, a person, even a profession perhaps... and for a minute I think yes, I've grown out of loving crazy things. That things will be very different after this. But then the day moves on, and we swing on ropes and hug each other balancing across beams twenty feet high up in the air and we bond and create unforgettable memories and then I think, this is just fine, the anchor will come when the time is ripe anyway.