The Fifth Chakra

Warning: Somewhat sappy inspirationalism ahead.  I needed to remind myself of why I’m going to be focused today and for the rest of the term. 

What day?

The day I decide to get everything done.  Somehow.  With the BF visiting family and most of my friends out of town for the holiday, I’m getting my syllabus done, finishing an essay to submit for a contest (it’s almost done), writing a reference letter for a student, and then–in true triage fashion–once all of that is done, work on my short story/possible novel-in-progress.

I’m being ambitious, but it’s necessary.  My “resolutions” this year involve being more goal-oriented.  I think it’s assumed that most people have a basic sense of “wanting” something and doing what needs (or they feel needs) to be done to earn or achieve that something.   I used to be a “go-getter.”  I used to make plans and execute those plans meticulously in order to achieve my goals.  I earned accolades, leadership positions, entrance into my first-choice undergraduate college.  And then. . . I stopped. Read the rest of this entry »

M is my mentor from last spring’s teaching practicum. That was his title, Mentor. But in a lot of ways, he is a mentor beyond that. Yesterday I went to talk to him.

“M–,” I said. “I have no time.”

“Nobody has any time,” he replied. (Rather, he growled. He tends to do that.) “You have to make time. An hour a day.”

“I have nothing with which to make time!” I said. “I don’t have time to breathe!”

“–,” he said, because he always says my name a lot. “–, I leave my house at 5:45 every day to get here to write for at least one hour.” Here I begin to roll my eyes, because M is insane for getting up as early as he does and driving as far as he does three days a week. But he went on. “Even if it’s total shit. I write for that one hour a day. It’s the only way I can write. You set your own times. You say, ‘I’ll write for one hour,’ and you say, ‘I will get these papers graded within 2 hours.’ You fill the time you give yourself.”

For some reason I’ve always gotten a kick out of M’s rantings/pep talks. Sometimes I need someone to remind me that I can do all this.

That’s right. I am in control and I’ve been abdicating that control to a certain extent,up to the chaos surrounding me. Earlier this summer, I took a short course on meditation. When my teacher said to let go, that anxiety is a fear of nothing being out there (God, Great Spirit, Great Goddess, whatever), that we have to make space within ourselves for ourselves, I thought, “But I have no space for me.” The realization was so overwhelming that with my next deep breath that came rushing through me, I began sobbing uncontrollably.

So last night, after M’s pep talk, I went home and meditated for the first time in months. I kept telling myself, you have to stop. You have to give yourself space. You have to slow down.  Afterwards, I felt like I had been hit by a truck.  Or that I hit a wall.  Either way I realized just how drained I was.  I slept so well.
And today, after talking with my advisor, it looks like I’ll wait one more bloody term to graduate so my thesis can be what I want it to be.