Much of my journey to grad school has felt like this unfortunate witch at 1:09 but, at long last with a lot of hard work, blood, sweat, tears, prayers, yoga, conversations, well wishes, donated funds, donated time, and LOVE. I am FINALLY on my way. Although I’m less than two hours away from boarding the plane it still feels surreal to me. I imagine it will for the upcoming weeks as well as I attempt to settle into my “new normal”.
I just want to take a second to thank all the friends and family that believed in me and in my talent along the way. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: If I could bottle up people’s belief in me and sell it on the open market, I’d be a millionaire. I wish each of you all the love and light that you can stand. It is my hope that everything you see in me you see in yourselves. I have amazing people in my life and I am grateful to the source of all that is that I have the awareness today to see that. I won’t be long winded as the hardest good-byes are still in front of me: My Mother & My Son I didn’t think it was possible to love two people as much as I love them and I hope like hell that I make them proud.
Much love to any and all eyes that read this. Let my story not be apart from your own but rather living proof of what can happen when, you Harness Your Superpower™
I am now approximately 4 months from moving to NYC and everything seems to be moving at a snail’s pace. It is the perfect environment for me to develop a practice of patience, but who the hell wants to be bothered with that shit, right? Instead I choose to entangle myself in every manner of self-destructive time filler I can find from useless men, to midnight jelly heart binges.
Why does living right have to be so damnable hard!? Ugh! Well, I am scoring tiny victories like … 45% follow through on my budget, working out in some capacity one day a week and limiting my social networking time … wait how long have I been on WordPress today? Does WordPress even count as cheating? (nah, it’s sorta like getting head from a hooker, right fellas!)
Anyway, let this lil news brief be a literal, if not quite literary, representation of me “keep on, keeping on.” One day very soon, I shall be writing lofty blog posts about the beautiful misery of graduate school live and direct from my 5’x12′ foot apartment in Fort Greene. In the mean time, if you’re in a waiting place like I am try your best (and BELIEVE me I know it’s hard) to shift focus inward and stay grounded, knowing you have a sistah (that would be me) in the fight *fist raised*. My tiny bursts of discipline and self nurturing have actually kept me just around the frays of sanity.
That’s all I got.
When I began the graduate school application process I tried to maintain the belief that no matter the outcome, “good” or “bad”, that it had nothing to do with my ability to write or my value as a writer. I probably should have taken it to the next level and said that it had nothing to do with my value as a human being, because ultimately it doesn’t.
Grad school was to me was about what I valued. I value education. I enjoy becoming educated. Academia is my home girl. However, I do realize that there are non-conventional ways of receiving the education I desire, and if it ends up that those are the avenues I have to stroll down that it is okay. The sting of my experience comes from valuing the means of getting my education more than I do the education itself.
There is a balance I seek to find between my desire to achieve and the realization that my achievements do no supersede my humanity. There is absolutely nothing wrong with me wanting to succeed, but that success should not come at the expense of what really matters, my life and happiness. Looking back over the last few months I can see that I have been highly driven, but not exactly enjoying my life, even during times that were intended to be enjoyable.
I’m entering an easier phase of surrender as I continue to raise my white flag and wave it at Tisch Asia (the game is not entirely over, but it appears to be a blow out). At this point, I’m not too clear on “what’s next”. I’m still feeling some residual yuckiness, but I know it is dangerous for me to live here. I want to hide because I am embarrassed and ashamed, but I won’t. Instead I’ll volunteer to be the fool that is brave enough to fail fantastically and be willing to tell the tale.