It’s been an absolutely wonderful week. Last weekend (as detailed here) I had an absolutely incredible, fulfilling time. I had a chance to really center, breathe, and relax, and it was a much-needed breath of joy and happiness. The good mood stayed with me for days, and one thing after another was just positive, happy, and true. (Check out blog posts here and here and here). It’s been fantastic!

But tonight I’m feeling a little down. I’m cold – it can’t be more than 50 degrees down here, and I was foolish enough to wear shorts and a tank. But more than that, I’m whiny. I’m bitchy. I feel too large for the space and too loud for the air. I feel cranky and hypersensitive, inept and obvious. 

For one thing, now that everything is wrapped up and dealt with (I turn in my study abroad app tomorrow!), all I have left is my research project. While there are a lot of positive things destined to happen between now and the real kick-off for the project, such as getting a visit from home and going camping, I can’t help but feel the oncoming rush of fear.

What if I can’t do it? It’s becoming a history project, I can feel it, and I’m afraid of it. I don’t know how to do a history project and I’m afraid I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into. I can just imagine myself getting up in front of the group, blundering and bullshitting through what I can, and then sitting back down with a red face, cuttingly aware that everyone knows I can’t do it.

I don’t want to let Polk down, for sure, but mostly I don’t want to let myself down. I fear what I’ve bitten off, and I’m feeling pretty inept about that.

Chris gave me magnificent book today – Dessa Darling’s “Spiral Bound”, written by Dessa of Doomtree – and I love it. I’ve been poring over it today, enjoying every line and word. Dessa is an incredible artist, a phenomenal rapper and beat poet, and a profoundly talented author. She’s also a professor and has a Philosophy degree. In a word, she has a dream life… and a talent that I can never match.

I talk about being a writer and a good one; I know in my heart of hearts that I have something to say and have been gifted with the skill and creativity to say it well. But what have I got to show for it? Two floundering poems and a heart of stacked dreams… miles of writerly desires and only an inch of time. Dessa’s got the writing career I wish I had, and I admit it.

I think another reason I’m feeling down is because I’m readjusting some thoughts in life. As I have alluded to in previous posts, Chris and I have been doing some long, hard looking at our life and our place in it. We’re both bright, ambitious, driven, success-oriented people, and in a sense, that’s come around to bite us in the ass. We’ve both been working so hard, we’ve been missing our life as it happens. But worse still, we’ve both committed ourselves so far out – trapped ourselves so far out – that we’ve both been feeling a little claustrophobic.

Clearly we are committed to each other – that was never a question and there was never a doubt in my mind – but through questioning the process together, we came to the realization that we need to scale it back. We need to be twenty years old, we need to have room to make mistakes, and most importantly, we need to have room to breathe. We’ve got to relax and take it one day at a time. We have to enjoy each other and enjoy our life and feel the breeze on our faces, and let grad school and kids and plans happen as they will.

The joy I’ve felt this past week has been proof of that truth, and perhaps giving myself some time to simply be will help me achieve my research and writing goals. But it’s still going to take some adjustment. I guess right now I’m feeling the creak and pull of rearranged dreams, and figuring out where they lie.

And so there’s that.


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