well ok...
though I LOUNGED upon them (gracelessly licking my paws and purring gently, as it were), agreeing with the arrangement of the universe and all therein, I was still unsatisfied.
Every now and then, I'd stand from my comfortable bed to cast glances out the window. I'd daydream about finishing what I started. I'd imagine the late-nights and eye strain and unreasonable TAs and bogus deadlines and I'd want it even more. I'd open the window and let the air in. I'd smile, feeling the phantom promise of something like pride tugging at my heart. Sometimes, I'd even take a step or two away from the bed. But then I'd go back to my excuses - my very reasonable and rational fears and excuses - and get comfortable, yawning and stretching, complaining about the temperature of my milk.
The truth is, when you've been sitting (ok, ok, LOUNGING) for as long as I have, even something as simple as standing takes a lot of effort. When you've grown to be as precious and particular as I have, the thought of even a minor change in routine is offensive - scandalous, even. And, as much as I didn't like to think of myself as pampered and passive, I had to admit that I was, even if rationally and reasonably so.
One day, as I stood to take my step (or two) I thought of all the other times I had tried to fool myself in this very same way - padding about in a circle and calling it progress. And when I thought of the papers and the research and study groups, the phantom feelings that came with the fantasy seemed foreign and improbable, just as they had every time before. Just as I had every time before, I talked myself out of doing anything. I had so many very reasonable and rationale reasons NOT to do anything.
The real world is comfortable, practical, and more or less predictable. I know what's expected of me. I have a routine. I go here. I do this at this time and that at that time (never at THIS time). I'm prepared. I'm organized. I am steady and settled. I'm reasonable and responsible. I'm a happy cog in a most glorious and very satisfying machine.
I can't possibly go back to school. I have so much going on! Look at my life! Look at all of this stuff! Look at all of these things! There's no room for more stuff (let alone things!)!
And, besides, it's neat! Look at how neat and organized this is! I can't imagine having to rearrange all of this into something that works even half as well. It took me YEARS of trial and error to get everything just so! And, here I am, everything working and clicking and processing thus, bonded and insured and as adventurous as plain oatmeal.
Healthy, nutritious, colon-sweepingly delicious oatmeal.
Well... delicious to a point. Once one gets used to it.
And that's what grown-ups do. Rather, that's what RESPONSIBLE grown-ups do. We eat our vegetables. We say please and thank you. We go to work and are thankful for the privilege. We save our dreams for the end of the day with our pillows. We do the safe and right and good things, because that's what grown-ups do. That's what separates us from children.
That's what makes us grown-ups.
And yet...
I remain full of "what ifs?". I remain tantalized and enticed by possibility. And I can't help wondering how miserable I'd be if I kept on this path - this comfortable predictable path - and stopped dreaming. And never gave myself a chance to try while I'm still young enough to fail and recover.
I'm sure that life would be OK, even WONDERFUL in some ways. But I'd always wonder. Forever. And that's no way to live.
So, here I go: nervous, excited, motivated, hungry, curious, and a little ignorant. And, if I fail, so what! At least I'll know, right?
And if I don't fail, maybe I'll get to make a few of my dreams come true.
Is it worth the risk?
*shrug* I'll let you know on the other side.
Here goes nothing...
Drew
Thank you...for being Drew...XOXOXO
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