Clutching the thin string of grounded sanity, I see my mind’s form tumble and flip within the capricious flows of time, self, and society. Hurricanes, tornadoes, and unexpected flocks of migrating trends have all affected how close it comes to the ground; how far it stretches toward the sun; and how many holes are ripped through the very fabric of certainty.
Although my mind is on the wind, I have never lost it.
Recently, I have started the next steps of the rest of my life: graduate school. In fact, This is precisely why I have not been able to write lately—I hate that, but school comes first. Since starting the semester, I’ve started looking at life very differently.
In fact, it’s hard to remain the same when thrown into a cluster of unfamiliarity: people, campus, and courses all surround me with questions: “Where do you fit? Where will you go? What do you know?” I have no clue—I end up asking the questions right back into the abyss.
How do I, someone fixed on routine and familiarity, adapt to the ebbing and flowing of What-Where-Why The F**k River?
First, lets’ reflect on my First Failure: here, we see a stressed Fifi, dying of negativity and self doubt. Well, forget that crap. There’s more to life. While I still struggle with this at times, the difference is astounding. I have become infinitely more self-aware to the point I can recognize and correct some of my behavior before it happens (when I’m not Sammy) and ultimately think more positively of myself, image, and life.
Second, I have finally discovered how to do what’s necessary, to prioritize positively and reduce stress—to keep from punching my counter until I start laughing. It is sometimes difficult to just close my eyes and list ten things for which I’m grateful. Once you start practicing, the bad grades, anxiety-fueled nights, and worst fears (paranoia is the next thing to work on) seem more manageable.
Third, I have begun to fully embrace my flaws. Nobody is perfect—but everybody is special with their own flaws and talents. How cliché, I know. However, to my unqualified knowledge, it is still true and nothing has proved the veracity of this more than my study group. For some reason, growing up, I never felt I was supposed to belong anywhere (no, that’s not a sob story, there’s more arrogance in that thinking than not)—but not anymore. My group (consisting of an ex-coast guard femme badass, a fabulous franchise legacy, an “intern-of-the-year”, an accountant with sick tatts, and a woman with three names) have accepted me in the way that makes me want to do better for them, which is a big deal coming from my Professional Hell, where my patience was tested until I broke into a billion pieces of neuroticism and started a blog to cope.
But alas, I rise like a mother-f*cking phoenix.
Or a pigeon.
More like a pigeon—but I’m still flying and that’s what matters. Maybe soon I’ll graduate to Eagle, Hawk or some other badass raptor with excellent vision.
Either way, one thing remains the same: I’m not afraid of failure. I’m not afraid of doing what’s necessary. I’m aware and grateful for all the people I have met and look forward to learning more about others, myself and of what we are all capable.
Like I said, my mind is on the wind, but I have now made myself a boat.