For Rebecca...
...because she was so kind to leave a comment and well-wishes. And also because my head and my heart seem to be in two different places right now, and I'd very much like to see a synthesis between the two.
I should be ecstatic, and I'll admit to ecstatic moments, but as Emerson lamented, they don't last. Mentally, I know that I'm headed in a positive, forward direction, and emotionally, I'm scared to death. My inner child is convinced that the play-date can't last, that some grumpy old grownup is going to come along and take away all the toys, scold, and end all the fun.
I've heard from Chatham, but I haven't heard from any other schools, and I haven't received any offers of funding. The money thing scares me. I'm having trouble working up any sort of optimism for the many fellowships applications I put in the mail. As an undergrad, I've been a star, ol' big fish in a small pond. Now, out in the ocean -- I'm imagining I'm nothing more than a minnow, and a minnow with warts on my fins--not good enough for bait let alone the foundation of a gourmet meal.
But then, the moments of ecstasy return. All fears aside, I'm doing it. I'm presenting at another conference, speaking at another town hall meeting, slowly filling the spring schedule so that I won't have time for excessive belly button gazing. Besides, it's NOT all about me!! My two seniors are at the precipice of their future as well. Christopher received his letter of acceptance to Pitt, which I had no doubt about (but he seemed to), and Sage is more than likely going to end up at PSU. I can understand women who devote their lives to motherhood without a lot of outside involvement. In thinking about their future, I can only go so far before I try to start planning it for them. I need something to return to when that realization comes home that this is their lives, and my part is growing smaller and smaller. So, right now, having my own thing to obsess about keeps me from falling to pieces, and having them to support and encourage keeps me from overly obsessing. It works out. The scales are in balance.
I'm grateful for the decision to take a few demanding classes my final undergrad semester. That, too, helps divert the fear and obsession. I can always pick up a book to read for a term paper, or study the endocrine system or work on that tricky introduction for my as-yet-in-pieces manuscript.
I'm in the waiting place, knowing one way or another I have a place to go, but still not knowing if I have choices. I suppose it doesn't much matter, so long as I don't have to make a choice today, right? So, I'll plug along, watch the rain and sleet coming down outside my window, pray that my husband makes it home safely since my efforts to get him to reschedule his day came to naught, and enjoy this day spent in my flannel nightgown, as I've a feeling my life this time next year will little resemble what it does today.
Till later...
I should be ecstatic, and I'll admit to ecstatic moments, but as Emerson lamented, they don't last. Mentally, I know that I'm headed in a positive, forward direction, and emotionally, I'm scared to death. My inner child is convinced that the play-date can't last, that some grumpy old grownup is going to come along and take away all the toys, scold, and end all the fun.
I've heard from Chatham, but I haven't heard from any other schools, and I haven't received any offers of funding. The money thing scares me. I'm having trouble working up any sort of optimism for the many fellowships applications I put in the mail. As an undergrad, I've been a star, ol' big fish in a small pond. Now, out in the ocean -- I'm imagining I'm nothing more than a minnow, and a minnow with warts on my fins--not good enough for bait let alone the foundation of a gourmet meal.
But then, the moments of ecstasy return. All fears aside, I'm doing it. I'm presenting at another conference, speaking at another town hall meeting, slowly filling the spring schedule so that I won't have time for excessive belly button gazing. Besides, it's NOT all about me!! My two seniors are at the precipice of their future as well. Christopher received his letter of acceptance to Pitt, which I had no doubt about (but he seemed to), and Sage is more than likely going to end up at PSU. I can understand women who devote their lives to motherhood without a lot of outside involvement. In thinking about their future, I can only go so far before I try to start planning it for them. I need something to return to when that realization comes home that this is their lives, and my part is growing smaller and smaller. So, right now, having my own thing to obsess about keeps me from falling to pieces, and having them to support and encourage keeps me from overly obsessing. It works out. The scales are in balance.
I'm grateful for the decision to take a few demanding classes my final undergrad semester. That, too, helps divert the fear and obsession. I can always pick up a book to read for a term paper, or study the endocrine system or work on that tricky introduction for my as-yet-in-pieces manuscript.
I'm in the waiting place, knowing one way or another I have a place to go, but still not knowing if I have choices. I suppose it doesn't much matter, so long as I don't have to make a choice today, right? So, I'll plug along, watch the rain and sleet coming down outside my window, pray that my husband makes it home safely since my efforts to get him to reschedule his day came to naught, and enjoy this day spent in my flannel nightgown, as I've a feeling my life this time next year will little resemble what it does today.
Till later...
Comments
Thank you.