being launched

So here I am, a little less than a month from graduation and I'm beginning to feel the tug. Anyone who's waited for inevitable change (it sounds like an oxymoron, but it's not, trust me) knows what that feels like.

I'm sure it's similar to the feeling a pregnant woman has about 3 weeks before her due date -- there's still so much growing to do. But time is running out, and you're happy, because you're ready to go into the next stage of life, but you're also terrified. Will I be good at it? Can I do this?

And so, that slow tug back on the catapult begins. It's the pull on the bow strings before the release. The tension buzzes in the strings and the urge to let go is so strong, but the arrow will just fall from the ground without that extra tug at the end.

And so here I am. In that last little tug. My strings are tight and I'm buzzing pretty hard. I've got a lot to do between now and the end.

The string just gets tighter and tighter. The funny thing is, I know I'm going to make it a few more weeks before what I'm moving toward will actually become real. Like I said, there's other things to do first.

I've been reading a lot about Buddhism lately. One of the practices is present-mindedness, or being completely invested in the current. You can't focus on how far you want the arrow to fly, all you can do is focus on the tightening of the strings. If the strings are tight, then what happens happens.

And that's all I can do. Wait for the launch.

remember to breath

We're getting down to the wire. Roughly 40 days and counting until the end. Marathoners call it hitting the wall -- you just don't want to go anymore, but you have to. You have to keep putting one foot in front of the other and just keep running.

I've hit the wall. Hard. What's that saying: Senioritis, we're too lazy to find a cure.

Yeah. But see, I don't have the luxury of doing nothing. I have a To Do list the length of Route 40 just for things to finish for school alone, forget finding a job, and planning to move home.

I've been taking a yoga class, and one of the things our professor always tell us is to remember to breath. I've started having to tell myself to breath in and out during my daily activities.

I don't think I've ever been so happy and yet so terrified for something to come to an end.

argh.

It's just been one of those weeks. Here's hoping that next week will be better.

hovering

Lately I've had this very odd sensation that I'm sort of floating, in a way, hovering around something big, but I can't quite get there. I know it has to do with the time of year, and the fact that I'm going to be seriously looking for jobs soon. But I have a sense of dullness that I can't quite shake. I feel like I should be more nervous about finding a job, more anxious about the fact that I have no clue where I'll be in six months, but over the last few weeks, I've been so focused on my life in the present, that the future hasn't really caught up with me yet.

That's good, right? I've been saying forever that my goal was to live more in the now, and not worry about what's coming and where I'm going. I've always been a strident planner, and incredible organizer, yet right now I feel like there's so much on my plate that needs to be organized and planned in addition to all the other stuff going on in my life, something had to give, and it was the future.

There have been multiple instances in the last few days where this Future has been poking my shoulder, creeping into my daily life as a reminder of its imminence. I delivered a package yesterday for one of the women at University Relations, it was a set of proofs for the program for the Spring Honors Convocation. That's the thing they hold in April to honor all the students who've performed well -- seniors wear their caps and gowns. Holy crap. And yet, it seems so unreal right now, so completely foreign and far away. Denial? Maybe. Survivalist instinct? Probably more likely.

I think my mind is compartmentalizing because I know that if I start worrying about it now, I'll fall apart. I have no plan. I have no job, not a lot of money and at this point no clue as to where I'll be living in six months. But saying that doesn't freak me out as much as it should right now because it's still six months away. A lot happens in a week for me, six months is a lifetime at this point.

That being said, check back with me after Christmas. It'll be a different story I'm sure.

when it rained on tuesdays

Today was the first Tuesday this semester that it has not rained. It has consistently rained every Tuesday since the first day of classes. Invariably, the day after every grueling Monday production night, the zombie day after has been met by gray skies and at least a chance of showers, if not a fully functional downpour.

But not today. Today wasn't particularly dreary at all. It was sunny, a little windy and crisp. Yesterday was, both personally and percipitatively (Is that a word?) miserable. Dreary inside, dreary outside.

I've been struggling lately with an overbooked schedule and an overworked mind. I like to be busy and I'm pretty good at organizing my time. But the past few days I've been in over my head. It all came to a head yesterday as I sat at 8 a.m. still working on finishing reading I'd abandoned at midnight from the night before, desperately trying to stay awake over my Cheerios. I realized as I looked at the little life rafts floating in my milk that if I didn't slow down, I'd be needing more than one Bethany-sized life raft to keep me from drowning.

The stress has passed -- today was the biggest day of the week for things to be finished. The rest of the week will be easier (and supposedly sunny also): I'm seeing Minus the Bear with Kiersten tomorrow night and then am heading down to Atlanta for the weekend with the Journalism and Communications Fellows. That's not exactly a holiday, but it will be a welcome change of scenery.

I often find it odd how one day can be so different from the last. It's cliche, but hindsight is completely 20/20. Historical perspective is absolutely everything. I think that's something I need to remember, when things look bad, just give it a little time and don't forget to carry the umbrella.