2011-10-19
You've got to trust in yourself
I've got to trust in you
I've got to trust in time
I've got to trust that I can turn on a dime.You've got to trust in me
You've got to trust in time
You've got to trust, it rings like a chime.And when my heart is waxing
Like that desert supermoon
My hope is that I can always, always remember this too.I've got to trust in my work
And I've got to trust in our space
I've got to trust in a careful placeYou've got to trust in yourself
You've got to trust in our friends
You've got to trust in the hours of endAnd when my heart is waxing
Like that desert supermoon
My hope is that I can always, always remember our tune.We've got to trust blind faith
Just as much as vision
We've got to trust in this life we're givenAnd when my heart is waxing
Like that desert supermoon
My hope is that I can always, always remember this too.-birdie busch
My chest can't help but rise and swell. It's that time of year, that eager tumble into the brilliance of the colors, and of stuff happening, a cue conditioned in us, associated with this season, since kindergarten. I had to move eastward to possibly appreciate the fall season even more than I already had-- not because the foliage is particularly more brilliant here (although I'm sure it is-- I won't make it up to the Hudson river valley this year; maybe next time), because now I see that in this climate, the fall is also a refreshing reprieve from the gross humidity of summer; the air is especially crisp and dry when it's contrasted against the moisture that hung in the air all the way through September.
I'm in a unique situation, one that doesn't feel like it resembles anything I've been in before. It feels more amorphous than ever. Granted, I've made a decision before that affected the next four years (and you could say, the next two years up to that, leading up to that moment... but isn't that how all things work?), but it was a much easier one-- it didn't have a direct and specific impact on my future career path, and the admissions rates and applications were much less competitive and intensive than what I'm facing now. I'm intimidated. But I also believe that I've been working up to this moment throughout my life, throughout my thoughts, studies, and conversations. I've been preparing to study the brain and mind, and I've been actively doing so for the last four years. I am good. This is right. It is hard and who knows where, but it's the best thing for me.
The uniqueness of my situation doesn't end there: my guy and I are contemplating the meaning of forever, in terms of us. What would it look like? Could it work? How would we know? We make so much sense together and we are so happy, but is it happy enough, and is the happiness sustainable? Leave it to us to analyze it to death and psych ourselves out. But somehow this anxiety and uncertainty isn't ruining our enjoyment of one another. Once again, I have no idea what is going to happen. And I just have to say to myself once again, and us to each other: I am good. This is right. For now.
Everything is so loosely formed. Vague sketches, pencil strokes with a loosey goosey grip and a uncocked, fluid wrist. What is it? It is a shadow, a mirage, a taunting whisper or mutter that I can't discern. It's on the tip of your tongue, that word you can't think of. I've had it happen where someone finally solved for me the word I couldn't think of, and even though they were right that was the one, I didn't get that satisfaction and it kept bugging me, that "mild anguish", like even though yes that's the one, I feel no relief, like no, it must have been some other word, a synonym, but I don't know which one, and I don't know if I would recognize it as the right one even if you then presented it to me. Damn.
That being said, you deserve to know more about this psychological phenomenon. Please at least skim: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tip_of_the_tongue
I'm scared, a little, because things seem to be getting of more consequence the older I get, and some of it seems kind of beyond my control, or at least a really weird combination of things in my control that require a lot of discipline and willpower, slash things that I can't do much about, but it's hard to tell the difference. And instead of dwelling on my fear I'm supposed to work hard and do what I CAN do, but I'm distracted. Sigh.
"We could slip away, wouldn't that be better. Me with nothing to say, and you with your autumn sweater."
We've all just got to trust in ourselves.
leesah-likes at 11:14 p.m.