The last 18 months have been a lot of trial and error. I’ve been thinking of the last several weeks as a series of little experiments, which my youngest sister called “spearmints” when she was four. She kept asking to go on her computer to do the spearmints, but I had no idea what she meant. Spearmints have hypotheses and conclusions, so maybe it’s not the right name to choose. Then again, names and labels don’t always define a thing, do they? (Feel free to quote Romeo and Juliet in your head right now. Lord knows I have this week.)
Mr. F, for instance.. Mr. Funke? Mentally Retarded Female? Frank, that guy Tobias met at the gym? (Don’t get the reference? Maybe we aren’t simpatico.)
A few weeks ago, I riffed on the idea of “falling – I could fail or I could fly; either way, I’ll be fine” as part of something – maybe a poem – I was playing with. I then started to list words that start with “F”… Maybe I was learning something. Maybe I was tapping into a wave. It’s not a complete thing, nor does it have any order. Did I get the first F word you thought of?
It’s 158. Maybe I’ll do something with those numbers next. Except that I keep thinking of more F words, including formatting, which gets messed up every time I try to add another word. It’s not flawless (please start singing Beyonce your head. Or not… “I woke up like dis. I woke up like dis”)
Anyway, the experiment of not letting my past dictate my present, not using one person’s sins to punish others (or myself) is going alright. It’s nothing new to be in constant dialogue with myself, so a comfort in knowing that’s a fixed point to hold on to when everything else is moving.
The experiment of relocating across the ocean is also going well, even though it’s hardly begun. I still don’t know my class schedule, and every time I turn around, there’s another step between me and getting a job. There are so many things to put in the “that would have been helpful to know a month ago” file. Some of it is probably on me, but some of it is clearly poor planning on behalf of the University and the Home Office. If it isn’t poor planning, it’s someone not realizing that other people like to know things more than two seconds in advance.
But one of the things I’ve lacked my whole life is patience, so I’m getting ample opportunity to learn it. I’m also getting plenty of reminders that I do not, nor should I, control very much around me. I wrote several pages on that theme this morning at the coffee shop. I think my therapist back in NYC would be proud of how far I’ve come where acceptance (including self-acceptance) is concerned.