Dear readers, I'm sorry to have left you so long! I've spent the past few days battling a cold and feeling like my brain was slowly leaking out through my face. This unfortunate circumstance, not randomly correlated with the recent cold spell, reminded me of my main vendetta against winter.
That is to say, it was no strange coincidence that this illness took me down right when everybody sealed the windows and doors and cranked up the heat against the cold. Yes, it's the fake, stuffy, stale air that hits my immune system the hardest.
I extend this immunology to all aspects of my good life and health: As much as I seek security and constancy in my life, in the deepest recesses of my soul there lives a wild child who is terrified of falling into a rut, terrified of being straitjacketed or inflexibly contained within any building, relationship, religion, or situation in general. Back in high school my friends and I dubbed it "commitmentphobia," layman's terms for "Type II Claustrophobia." I've spent a lot of time and energy since then targeting this debilitating condition in search of a cure. Since then I've gotten a lot better at not turning tail when a relationship threatens to get serious (although I have perhaps strayed too far in the opposite direction on one or two occasions) and I've gotten a lot better at getting comfortable in a new place, even if that place is a suitcase. I've gotten a lot better at investing in people and places and decisions. This fear probably originated from an ingrained belief that no situation is permanent, that everything will at some point be ripped out from under my feet and I will again be saddled with a new earthquake relief project like the one from which I was born. (Ecuador: March 5, 1987.)
But I contradict myself: I hate change, but I'm afraid of things that stay the same; I seek stability, and yet I seek to shake things up. Such is life.
On the plus side, this whole brain-leaking-out-of-my-face thing has really put things in perspective. I'm changing some things about my life. For example, I've officially pulled out my winter coat so I can be more comfortable walking around outside, during my lunch break, or whenever, to make sure I get some kind of fresh air quota. Focusing on bolstering my immune system with good food and good exercise. Air-tightened the door where most of the cold air was seeping into my room. Washed all my sheets last night. I love a fresh bed.
I feel refreshed, too, from spending an entire weekend sleeping, drinking honey tea and watching bad movies like Blue Crush 2 -- guilt-free! Because there are no classics I didn't read and no papers I didn't write as a result of staying on this side of the River Styx. What I'm trying to say is, getting sick as a student SUCKS because there are constantly 7,000,000 things you have due on Monday that you either have time to survive your illness, or you have time to pass your classes. Not both. Now that I'm an adult, I can be sick all weekend without dooming myself to academic mediocrity.
So. I face the upcoming week with gumption.
Today I finally pulled together the young adults group I've been trying to orchestrate at church since I got here. I mean, the group I started to organize a long time ago and promptly left to wallow. But after today's meeting, I am optimistic about the future of this group, and perhaps more importantly I see that there is a need for it. This is the kind of project that can foster really deep, significant friendships, and I'm looking forward to working on it.
Speaking of friends, I have quite a few plans floating around in the air with different people, to the point that my weekly schedule is muddled full of social obligations/opportunities. When is the last time this happened? Senior week? Ha. We all know I like it that way. Before long I will know enough people in this state, and know them well enough, to play host. This is my happiest state of being. There are so many things I want to do and so many projects I want to pour my energy into, so many things to learn and things to see and people to meet and spend time with.
Let me not get ahead of myself. Let me remind myself that I am not yet fully recovered and that I still need time to rest. Let me remember to breathe. Let me smile, and laugh. Let me do the things I need to do and do them well, but allow me flexibility to take a new turn, a new opportunity, to try something unprecedented and potentially wonderful. Let me enjoy each activity, each person, each moment, for what it is.
This is my prayer for presence.
That is to say, it was no strange coincidence that this illness took me down right when everybody sealed the windows and doors and cranked up the heat against the cold. Yes, it's the fake, stuffy, stale air that hits my immune system the hardest.
I extend this immunology to all aspects of my good life and health: As much as I seek security and constancy in my life, in the deepest recesses of my soul there lives a wild child who is terrified of falling into a rut, terrified of being straitjacketed or inflexibly contained within any building, relationship, religion, or situation in general. Back in high school my friends and I dubbed it "commitmentphobia," layman's terms for "Type II Claustrophobia." I've spent a lot of time and energy since then targeting this debilitating condition in search of a cure. Since then I've gotten a lot better at not turning tail when a relationship threatens to get serious (although I have perhaps strayed too far in the opposite direction on one or two occasions) and I've gotten a lot better at getting comfortable in a new place, even if that place is a suitcase. I've gotten a lot better at investing in people and places and decisions. This fear probably originated from an ingrained belief that no situation is permanent, that everything will at some point be ripped out from under my feet and I will again be saddled with a new earthquake relief project like the one from which I was born. (Ecuador: March 5, 1987.)
But I contradict myself: I hate change, but I'm afraid of things that stay the same; I seek stability, and yet I seek to shake things up. Such is life.
On the plus side, this whole brain-leaking-out-of-my-face thing has really put things in perspective. I'm changing some things about my life. For example, I've officially pulled out my winter coat so I can be more comfortable walking around outside, during my lunch break, or whenever, to make sure I get some kind of fresh air quota. Focusing on bolstering my immune system with good food and good exercise. Air-tightened the door where most of the cold air was seeping into my room. Washed all my sheets last night. I love a fresh bed.
I feel refreshed, too, from spending an entire weekend sleeping, drinking honey tea and watching bad movies like Blue Crush 2 -- guilt-free! Because there are no classics I didn't read and no papers I didn't write as a result of staying on this side of the River Styx. What I'm trying to say is, getting sick as a student SUCKS because there are constantly 7,000,000 things you have due on Monday that you either have time to survive your illness, or you have time to pass your classes. Not both. Now that I'm an adult, I can be sick all weekend without dooming myself to academic mediocrity.
So. I face the upcoming week with gumption.
Today I finally pulled together the young adults group I've been trying to orchestrate at church since I got here. I mean, the group I started to organize a long time ago and promptly left to wallow. But after today's meeting, I am optimistic about the future of this group, and perhaps more importantly I see that there is a need for it. This is the kind of project that can foster really deep, significant friendships, and I'm looking forward to working on it.
Speaking of friends, I have quite a few plans floating around in the air with different people, to the point that my weekly schedule is muddled full of social obligations/opportunities. When is the last time this happened? Senior week? Ha. We all know I like it that way. Before long I will know enough people in this state, and know them well enough, to play host. This is my happiest state of being. There are so many things I want to do and so many projects I want to pour my energy into, so many things to learn and things to see and people to meet and spend time with.
Let me not get ahead of myself. Let me remind myself that I am not yet fully recovered and that I still need time to rest. Let me remember to breathe. Let me smile, and laugh. Let me do the things I need to do and do them well, but allow me flexibility to take a new turn, a new opportunity, to try something unprecedented and potentially wonderful. Let me enjoy each activity, each person, each moment, for what it is.
This is my prayer for presence.
Wait. There is a Blue Crush SEQUAL?!
ReplyDeleteWell, sort of -- it's one of those "marketed as a sequel" knockoffs, where the cover is nearly identical with different unknown actresses, but really they have nothing to do with each other except theoretical surfing...
ReplyDelete