I'm not really sure how to pass this energy.
I mean, I could do lots of things. And I'd be lying if I tried to say that I didn't cry while listening to "The Climb" by the old Miley Cyrus like a giant baby defeatist. Mostly, I've been driving and consuming and resting on the couch, watching and being inspired by a plasma screen full of people who made it.
And me, on the other side of glory, soaking in the opportunity to fail. Guys, I'm in trouble.
But I was told recently by somebody very wise and very wonderful, that I am not powerless. That perspective is everything. And during this horrendous albeit incredible beginning to my graduate career, I felt powerless in every way. I worked so hard, couldn't pass the tests. I explained the fundamental fabric of astronomy as eloquently as I could, my students can't tell the moon from a wheel of cheese. I have a deep love for learning, I can't fit anything else inside my head.
BUT (because there is always a big BUT in my life, always):
This is not defeat. Nor is it complete failure. It's failure all right, but not completely. Because I know that I couldn't have changed anything about this past semester to make myself magically more test-savvy. I was asked to "change everything" about the way I study and learn, and I won't. I'll always be me, babe. Sorry.
Instead, I'm changing my perspective. This is affording me the opportunity, for the first time in a while, to assess. Assess, reassess, and rework my entire grand plan for my academic life, as it were. I'm not particularly interested in staying where I am forever, nor am I particularly psyched about doing everything at light speed. I'm more of a sound speed kind of gal. Just because I'm always on the run doesn't mean I'm always running. Come on. I'm tired. What's the damn rush? I'm twenty three years young, and I want to feel and do and see everything. I'll take my time, thankyouverymuch.
So if I can survive next semester, maybe I'll just try at a Master's. Take it slow. Soak it in. Graduate education is a blessing; a unique opportunity. I don't want to rush it, squander it, glaze it over. I want all of it.
All of it, in my own time, on my own terms.
Saturday, December 07, 2013
What if my life has nothing to do with me?
I mean, I'm this arbitrary mass of blood and bones and tissue, with a spirit that doesn't quite fit inside and a heart that doesn't claim just one single home.
So, I don't want to live for just myself. I'm far, far too flighty for that.
Dedication is a beautiful, rich phenomenon. My hands have never moved with more finesse, my feet have never pounded the Earth with more intensity, my arms and my heart have never opened so wide for myself, but for all of you. Dedicated to you, I'm limitless.
And during this season of life where my existence is a wonderful shade of chaos and strain and stretch, the bombs are falling around me; not on me. But, I can see where they are landing, right on top of you, and I've signed up for the disaster relief. I want to ease your burns. Rebuild you. Renew you. Be your bandaid.
And on the day-to-day, I can't dive in so deeply...but I can dedicate. So on Friday, I'll know the ins and outs of harmonic oscillators for Lawrenzo. Dear friend, you are everywhere to me, just like Michelle Branch said and I decided to E/B/F# my own chord progression into a 3,000 mile drive and I feel so much better and so much like the wind, and the ocean behind my eyes, and I've spent so much graphite while reaching for the solutions to our universe. And Lawrenzo, the one of the two of us who could really understand it, couldn't carry the whole, wide world and now the whole, wide world weeps for him. But he's everywhere. He'll be with me on Friday. He's with me now. He always was, and always will be.
And for the rest of you, use me. My life was orchestrated for your benefit; I exist for you, I ache for you. And eventually, I'll heal for you. We'll heal together.