Saturday, November 15, 2008
It's been awhile. Been awhile since I've really felt that stillness that so many people in the crafting blogosphere like to talk about. You know, taking the time to calm down, slow down, cherish each moment, notice the small things. In theory I'm all about the small things. In practice - well, in practice, I can't even walk slowly anymore. I think I must float in and out of phases in my life where all my movements are destined to be jerky, rushed, that of a Type A personality who recognizes it and pushes forward regardless.
And, you know, this is not exactly the person that I want to be. I look back on my days in China - what I thought about, what I wrote about - and I wish I could return to that version of myself. Unfortunately or fortunately, life takes us in many twisting directions, and it is not possible to return to the past, only to make the best of what is in front of us.
I feel undeniably lucky. Lucky to be here in a fabulous program, surrounded by really intelligent, passionate, funny, caring people. Lucky that I can be exposed to so many new ideas, perspectives, ways of thinking, to stretch my brain far beyond what it has been stretched in the past few years. I knew when I chose this program that it was going to be tough - everything that battered and bruised me about undergrad would be back again, the difference was this time I knew I was signing in on such an experience when I accepted. But even though you know the deluge is fast approaching, it doesn't necessarily make the onslaught any easier to bear.
And yet I have to say, I've surprised myself. I feel like I'm coping and adapting far better than I had ever imagined possible. But to do that, it means that my moments of stillness must leave my life. I wish I could say No, if I just reprioritized my life and my schedule, it would be possible to stand by all my priorities. I've tried. Really I have. But sometimes you have to accept that certain priorities are going to have to disappear for awhile, trusting in yourself that they will reappear again when the time is right. And as soon as possible.
I'm not abandoning crafting, or my way of seeing the world, my way of unwinding after a long day or week or when processing a huge amount of information. There will still be stillness there. But I'm afraid I can't linger with bountiful joy in the quiet, small moments of life right now. When I'm able to notice them they make me exceedingly happy - the rustle of the wind in the leaves, the sight of blue sky peeping behind masses of clouds, watching a child run through the grass - but at this moment, that is all I can do. I can but revel in them for a moment before rushing on to the Next Great Thing. At these tuition prices, I trust in staying true to myself for the long haul, even if the short-term means reshuffling for a bit. I like to think of it as extracting as much as possible from this alternate universe of which I happen to be a visitor, a guest, before returning back to the realm of my own, personal reality.