6.

When will they speak , or stir? They wait for you

to recollect that, while it lived, the past

was a rushed present, fretful and unsure.

-RICHARD WILBUR, "This Pleasing Anxious Being"

At some point in the last eight weeks (oh goodness!) I have become a fledgling historian.

I am able to remembering dates, eras, significant court cases, and contextualize new information into a foundational framework that is being constructed slowly but surely in the growing metropolis that is my brain.

Deadlines are here and I am expected to turn in two papers on Monday and lead discussion this coming up Friday on a really interesting book by Douglas Blackmon. The pressure is really on.

I have struggled trying to keep my motives at the forefront of this grad school adventure. As I have mentioned before, the judgement, the waves of inadequate feelings, the impossible leaning tower of reading that awaits me every night, is the momentum behind my forgetting why I'm here. I sometimes forget that there is some really dorky part of me that finds joy in attempting to compose succinct definitions of abstract ideas, in searching indexes, or in the lights that flicker on, one after another, as I pass the aisles of the library. My forgetting left me with this insidious lackluster feeling towards my immediate goals. On top of this, I was feeling lonely in these emotions, which only further pushed me into a feeling of incompatibility with grad school.

Lately though I have found happiness again and haven't been afraid to talk about how easy it is to forget. I have a small, but wonderful community at school - four of us. I have been working hard to establish friendships with these new colleagues of mine. I think we can be pretty sturdy supports for one another when we need it. At home I have a lot of love, upstairs, downstairs, next door, and I remember that I am lucky for this. Sully, my main man, studies with me every night. Here he is last night, hard at work and keeping me company.

It's easy to forget sometimes how lucky we are.

I am reading daily about histories of disenfranchisement, forced labor, murder, genocide, and other atrocities that have been performed by human hands and neglected by human hearts; and I learn about victims, victimhood, dealing with past, methods of forgiveness, and struggles that are legitimate and traumatic. I get angry with myself for forgetting how charmed my life of books is, but I recognize that I am only human. We do things like that.

I've been searching, ever since I got here, for the key to grad school, and it is in this confession of my humanity that I have opened the door to peace of mind here. Or at least as close to peace as one may find in this "rushed present" of a one year graduate program. I am finding my happiness again in research and reading other people's narratives of life.

One key to maintaining a solid self-satisfaction is feeling accomplished.

So, I have changed the nature of my To Do lists.

Sometimes we all need to feel like we crossed off more things than we wrote on our list.

Give yourself a treat today...I'm sure you worked hard too.