all i was searching for was me
Tuesday 1 October 2013: 2252h
Two more sleeps remain. I came to America during what I can confidently describe as one of the most stressful periods in my life. Graduating felt like the worst thing that had ever happened to me. This control freak’s security blanket had been well and truly ripped from her grasp. I was in crisis. I’d messed (read: almost ruined) quite a few things up and I wasn’t sure what I was going to do for the next twelve months because I knew I couldn’t afford to study this year.
I was extremely apprehensive about spending a significant amount of money on a trip that I wasn’t all that sure would fix things, and was actually earmarked for my postgraduate education. (I later read something about spending money not on material possessions, but experiences and felt slightly better about the financial situation I’ve left myself in.) I remember thinking, “I want to go home!” during the descent into Newark. I could have easily hopped straight back onto the plane stood in line at Passport Control. But I didn’t. Five weeks later and I still have absolutely no idea how some of the most important episodes of my life are going to play out. Five weeks later and I’m feeling far more bloody, bold and resolute than I thought possible. Five weeks later with the realisation that five weeks is too short a timeframe to have figured the next fifty years out. So I’ve finally admitted it, things are by no means perfect. (Perfect is little more than a construction anyway.)
In my moments of madness, I often find myself telling [myself] that it is impossible to get everything right the first time around, because this is the first time such an experience has been lived. There is no right or wrong way, the consequences are simply dealt with accordingly. (I am not talking il/legality.) In the same vein, people deal with things differently and – again – there is no right or wrong way. (I have a terrible tendency to take the moral high ground at every opportunity.) There may be better ways, but they are not necessarily the best ways. (My arrogance/ignorance needs work.) All good things in time.
As a result of numerous experiences, it appears that I have developed somewhat of a “Glass Half Empty” mentality. Through which I have taught myself that expecting the absolute worst in every situation means that things can only work out better than I’ve imaged them in my head. This doesn’t only contribute to a level of crippling anxiety I tend to experience bouts of, but it is also ridiculously exhausting. It appears that something needs to be reprogrammed in order for me to create a balance in my own mind. I have practiced yoga almost every day whilst I’ve been here, and I really need to keep it up when I get home. I don’t doubt that yoga isn’t for everyone, but there’s definitely something special in it for me that I intend to nurture. (And also because I want to master Chaturanga.)
In conjunction with this glass half empty mentality, I have learnt that It is the rare few who will hear you without your speaking. People will have real trouble understanding your issues without you communicating (through your appropriate channel) with them. When I’ve told close friends the real reason for my being here, the majority comment has been something along the lines of, “I had no idea.” Whether you want to believe it or not, you will need love in this life. It is during the most vulnerable moments that those who are going to provide it will identify themselves. This is such a humbling experience and has enabled me to understand that there are people in this world who need me because I add value to, and enrich, their lives.
We are all far more self-absorbed than we care to admit. I’ve been stumbling around for at least the past year being far too self-deprecating, living in some wallflower-y shaped bubble whereby I thought I had friends because it was something akin to “convenient” for both parties. In actuality, we co-exist for a reason and a purpose. Make nurturing relationships a priority.