nothing i write lately feels worth sharing.
i feel like i've lost the poetic knack i once had.
i try.
i really do try.
there are a number of things
i've been trying to write,
but i just.
can't.
i had this (clearly foolish) idea that summer semester would somehow be smoother than previous semesters.
i had this (clearly foolish) idea that somehow it would be less stressful and not quite as consuming.
i had this (clearly foolish) idea that i'd more easily get a handle on everything.
i had this (clearly foolish) idea that clinic would not require so much of me.
clearly, i was wrong.
i wish i had more to document this graduate school experience lately.
i mean, i have pages and pages and pages of notes written about clients, for classes, etc.
but the breezes and gusts that blow through me in the process,
shaping how i think, who i am, and what i see within those i work with, myself, or my future.
but when the task at hand is to stay afloat,
by any means possible,
when the water is exactly at your head--
well, that doesn't leave much time for soul-searching, detoxing, and processing.
the small moments i gobble up in order to revitalize myself and maintain sanity--
those rarely if ever allow for the taxing task of writing through it all.
letting out all the words that help me to understand and gain perspective.
instead, those small and gobbled moments mostly involve
letting life and goodness and bright moments,
spent with even brighter people,
seep deep down into me.
i allow
the winds to blow on my soul.
sometimes i listen, sometimes i just let its breezes give me fresh breath.
perhaps i should dedicate a certain portion of each week to writing.
writing whatever comes out for however long i can,
even if only a small amount of time is allotted.
perhaps i should.
so far, though, i regret none of the time
i've dedicated to being with people and sunshine instead.
whatever else anything is, it's better in the summertime.
when the days are long, the sun is bright, and the leaves are green.
i feel like i ought to have something to say for these months.
to adequately describe the chaos, or at least to adequately describe all the things that are sinking me.
academically speaking,
nothing currently feels cohesive.
nothing currently feels like i have a grasp on it.
with each day--or each client, or each email--everything shifts a little bit.
everything requires constant adaptability.
that's fine, really.
it is.
but sometimes--
my soul is just a bit weary of all it takes to stay afloat.
on the other hand,
there are moments.
they never last long,
but there are small, fleeting glimpses.
moments in which i see a small sliver of light shine,
within which i see the growth in myself.
i see the changes in my thought processes.
my critical thinking being refined and becoming more and more like a clinician.
with all there is to know, and all there is to remember, and all there is to be,
there are moments.
they never last long.
i rarely, if ever, feel like i'm taking in enough or that i'm adequately prepared.
what if i get to the end of grad school and find
there are scores of things i should have learned but never took in?
often, i feel under-qualified.
particularly with my summer clinic assignments.
i want so badly to be able to help these children.
i see so acutely their need and their difficulties in communicating.
the complexity of figuring out language
amidst so many other complexities in their little systems and lives.
tell me your secrets and ask me your questions.
oh, let's go back to the start.
nobody said it was easy,
no one ever said it would be this hard.
i was just guessing at numbers and figures,
pulling the puzzles apart.
questions of science,
science and progress,
don't speak as loud as my heart.
running in circles,
chasing our tails,
coming back as we are.
nobody said it was easy.
no one ever said it would be so hard.
i'm going back to the start.
all these (adorably bright-eyed) puzzles with so many pieces,
in order to truly make progress--
where do you even begin?
song of the day:
