one night's sleep brought some measure of peace. talking to classmates, most of whom were experiencing similar levels of anxiety at their inability to understand what ought to have been fairly straightforward, restored the rest. if one is to be a moron, it's nice to have company. besides, it is statistically improbable that so many morons would have gotten into grad school... one or two, yes, oh yes, but not a whole class. right? let's assume i'm right.
yesterday passed by in a fluffy cloud of equanimity, and if there's one thing these last months have taught me is to revel in the good days. if i believed that everything happens for a reason (which i most decidedly don't. don't even go there or i shall become very cross!) i'd say that that right there was reason enough for me. as it is, because i believe it is up to us to pluck meaning from the chaos, this is what i have plucked (fun word, that! pluck, pluck, pluck!).
as i walked home from school yesterday, listening to my new package of great tunes from this fabulous place, i felt at peace, and more than that. have you ever seen birds riding the updraft, circling effortlessly on a column of air? that, i decided yesterday, is what the good days feel like. no, not some manic frantic happiness, but an effortlessness, gliding on the "feeling" of rightness, of being where i should be, of being rooted (ha! talk about mixed metaphors!), of being... well, of being.
i realise that over the last few months this blog has become my therapy, my very very egocentric little forum for sharing all of my aches and pains. far be it for me to plan what will happen next (so exciting! nobody knows! it's called The Future!) but i hope that as i heal i will continue to write. this has been one of the many gifts that have washed ashore after the storm - the blog as therapy, and a gathering place for people who evidently care for me. and because it's been a while since i've written a list, and there's always something so pleasing to me in lists, here is one now (pardon the triteness - sometimes it is difficult to dress ephemera in words, so if this degenerates into the questionable wisdom of dr. phil or a bumper sticker, well, just chalk it up to my embattled intellect).
the gifts that have washed ashore after the storm:
1. epiphanies - small ones, those smooth rounded stones i've started putting in a small cloth bag: small glimpses of understanding, little tiny flashes of "aha!" that, over time, add to self-knowledge
2. moments of peace, those perfect moments that would be sought after if not for the perfect absurdity of seeking for something magical and ephemeral
3. you, my poultries, and the fact that when i was at my lowest, you commented and cared and emailed and listened and were there. thank you.
4. things pass. this is the reason for pain, yes, but it can also be a reason for peace, because both the good and the bad pass, and there is peace in this.
5. kindness to self. this has been a gift that k brought me. she has been so unfailingly non-judgmental and accepting and kind, that i have learned to use her voice when speaking to myself. we have both adopted a similar stance towards each other, and it brought it home to me that while it is easy to be understanding and patient towards the failings of another, it is so very difficult to do the same to oneself, hence the trick of using another's voice.
6. enjoying the ride, good and bad, because what other options are there?
7. running! i almost forgot running! how could i forget running? the benefits are vast - emotional, physical, hell, even aesthetic, and i am finally doing something my dad's been doing and loving for years, a sort of homage to the parental unit i used to call insane because of the very thing i've now fallen for.
enough now. it's degenerating into the very worst of dr. phil, but hey, what can you do? you know what? you can SHUT THE HELL UP. and i'm gonna do just that. later!