no blinding light or tunnels to gates of white, just our hands clasped so tight, waiting for the hint of a spark

You know, living on campus this summer kind of sucks. I'll tell you why: it adds to the sense of dislocation I'm already dealing with. Knowing that I'm moving in about a month (actually, in 27 days) makes me feel like I can't possibly even bother to settle in, unpack everything, make the space mine or really get to know my roommate.

Also, I didn't realize it, but the very atmosphere of campus is stressful to me. Being on campus, but not actually in class or worrying about homework, doesn't stop me from worrying about classes and homework (next semester's, if nothing else) just out of a sense of habit. I still feel like I can't take the time to sleep because there's so much to do - even when there isn't anything I have to do after 5 when I get off work. I've got to find a way to reverse that unfortunate trend of thinking. I mean, really, that's ridiculous. I refuse to take it any more (do you hear me, brain? Pay attention.). I'm going to think of all the things like walks to the Breeches, meetings of friends after Christmas break, gardens, tea times, D&D heckling, pro tempore, extended meals, duck hunt, everything that's ever happened that's fun and not stressful or work-related on this campus. And when I run out of those things to remember, I'm going to make new rememberances of freaking awesome things.

It's funny - and by funny, I mean an interesting parallel - that in addition to being physically en route to another dwelling place all the time (in the last calendar year I've moved from home to school to home-for-a-month to italy-for-three-months to two-weeks-of-travel to home-for-two-days-to-repack to hess-for-a-month-and-a-half, and soon I'll be in Mellinger-for-nine-months), I feel that I'm emotionally on route to elsewhere. That is, things are happening emotionally, in my understanding of myself and almost all my relationships, that seem to point clearly to elsewhere. For the most part I'm enjoying where they (and I) are now, but it seems clear that this is a state of flux.

I guess maybe that's what I tried to learn in Italy, the thing I'm not sure I learned. Being en route is pretty much alright-amazing. I can totally enjoy it (not even enjoying it halfway, but totally) and happiness is not precluded by continually going somewhere else (in a velvet dark).

Maybe?

What they fail to tell you in school is that, in addition to learning how little you know about your field of study, you're going to learn how little you know about where you're going in life. And the more you realize that you're walking through some thick fog, the greater the delight at some surprises, and the greater the fear at the possibility of other surprises.

But you know what? I'm finding courage in the oddest places to deal with this. So, as cheesy as it is to take my lead from bands like Death Cab for Cutie (and also as much as I'm twisting the context of their words at the moment), fear is not the heart of love, so I'm going to keep pursuing the things I love and loving the people I love the best way I know, and just keep walking into the dark. . . .

P.S. I hate cities, though. I refuse to walk into the dark in a city. The End. = )