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May. 24th, 2007 12:14 am*sigh* I feel like I haven't posted anything of substance in months. I don't know where all my time went; I feel exhausted constantly, and I always have things I should be doing, but that's not any different than when I was in Santa Cruz. Am I really that much more busy than I was in undergrad? Maybe I just enjoy what I'm doing more than I used to, so even though I'm way more busy, I don't feel like I am.
Anyway...
Life feels like it's evening out. I've chosen a lab and have a verbal promise of a place to live next year. I feel like I finally got my feet underneath me, and have "moved in." My heart finally caught up with my body, and the whole me is now in Connecticut. It's a nice feeling. I feel like "me" again, which is great after a whole winter of feeling like an empty shell. I think I finally managed to let go of Santa Cruz and the relationship I had there. It's weird, in some ways, to think that that time of my life is behind me--I loved it so much, and spent so little time thinking about what would happen after it ended--but in other ways it's such a relief to have let go of it. First of all, it means I'm not living in the past or for the past anymore. And second, it means I really am capable of letting go of things, and that I can learn to let go of things. That's something I worry about; I know that letting go is one of my great weaknesses. It's encouraging to see myself move on from something, especially something that was as important to me as Santa Cruz was.
On the train back from New York on Saturday, exhausted and happy, I wrote a small paragraph on the back of a knitting pattern.
"It's strange. For the last year, Santa Cruz has been maybe a hundred miles away. I've been holding onto it so tightly, refusing to let it recede. But I finally decided to be happy on the East Coast, and today for the first time I thought to myself, "California (and Jamie) feels like it's a thousand miles away!" And then I laughed at myself, because of course California has been three times that far away for the last year, but in my mind it's only just started to pull away into unreachability. Only recently have I pulled away from IT. I think I'm finally all here on the East Coast; my heart and soul finally caught up with my mind and body, the latter of which are laughing as an older sister would laugh at a young girl--"What took you so long, silly? Did you lose your way?"--followed by a fond embrace and a warm greeting."
It's good to be home. It's good to know that it's home because I've decided it is, and not because I'm forced. It's good to see myself growing up and maturing. I still have so far to go, but look how far I've come.
Anyway...
Life feels like it's evening out. I've chosen a lab and have a verbal promise of a place to live next year. I feel like I finally got my feet underneath me, and have "moved in." My heart finally caught up with my body, and the whole me is now in Connecticut. It's a nice feeling. I feel like "me" again, which is great after a whole winter of feeling like an empty shell. I think I finally managed to let go of Santa Cruz and the relationship I had there. It's weird, in some ways, to think that that time of my life is behind me--I loved it so much, and spent so little time thinking about what would happen after it ended--but in other ways it's such a relief to have let go of it. First of all, it means I'm not living in the past or for the past anymore. And second, it means I really am capable of letting go of things, and that I can learn to let go of things. That's something I worry about; I know that letting go is one of my great weaknesses. It's encouraging to see myself move on from something, especially something that was as important to me as Santa Cruz was.
On the train back from New York on Saturday, exhausted and happy, I wrote a small paragraph on the back of a knitting pattern.
"It's strange. For the last year, Santa Cruz has been maybe a hundred miles away. I've been holding onto it so tightly, refusing to let it recede. But I finally decided to be happy on the East Coast, and today for the first time I thought to myself, "California (and Jamie) feels like it's a thousand miles away!" And then I laughed at myself, because of course California has been three times that far away for the last year, but in my mind it's only just started to pull away into unreachability. Only recently have I pulled away from IT. I think I'm finally all here on the East Coast; my heart and soul finally caught up with my mind and body, the latter of which are laughing as an older sister would laugh at a young girl--"What took you so long, silly? Did you lose your way?"--followed by a fond embrace and a warm greeting."
It's good to be home. It's good to know that it's home because I've decided it is, and not because I'm forced. It's good to see myself growing up and maturing. I still have so far to go, but look how far I've come.
