Hi. Hello there. Have we met before?
Oh...yes, I'm CW. It's so nice to see you again.
You see, there's a lot of changes that have happened in the past 3 months, and a lot of changes that will hopefully be happening soon. I'm in this odd state of finishing up both undergrad and grad school all at once, I have my Teaching Associateship rapidly approaching, I'm moving somewhere in a 3 month time frame as well, and essentially starting life in the real-world(ish). Hell, I even bought a car; that practically screams "Welcome to the real world, grown-up!" I think my mind just imploded on itself in the face of all these adult prospects.
But there have been a few constants in my life that I've become supremely grateful for these past few months:
- Coffee. In copious quantities.
- The rescue squad, and my utterly dysfunctional, yet completely adored crew mates.
- My mentor-slash-adopted grandfather, the ever present voice of reason and encouragement.
- The solitude of the children's books room in the education library.
- Coffee. In even more astounding quantities.
Yet, in spite of all these lovely, and much needed, constants, I have come to the conclusion that I, in fact, fear change. Which is a shocking revelation because I have spent much of my life trying to convince myself that change and fluidity are good, and that I am an adaptable person by nature.
This is, apparently, false.
Never have I been more frightened of what the future may hold in my entire life.
This, alone, is a frightening realization in its own right, given some of my past life experiences; for this to be the single most frightening prospect I have ever faced is, in many ways, ludicrous--irrational. I've faced down tougher stuff. I should be stronger than this. I should be more courageous than this. I should be fearless.
But I'm not.
There's a part of me that's crying out, "This is all happening too soon! You're only 21! You're too young to be taken seriously by the real world, much less have half a chance of making it out there." That part of me desperately wants to believe such things to be true. That part of me is clinging wantonly to the familiar, kicking and screaming in protest in the face of change, and that is the part of me I find most disappointing.
So from here on out, there will be some changes. I refuse to disappoint myself; to fall short of my own expectations. I refuse to let the prospect of change confuse and paralyze me with fright.
"The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance."--Alan Watts
