A New Hope
Time to let the beast out again.
It’s been an unproductive weekend after my final class of the first semester of my time in the MAT program, but I guess that’s to be expected. I feel wrung out. I gave so much of myself this year to becoming someone else that I forgot to remind the new me who I was. So I’m still sorting through the detritus of this mysterious person’s life, coming to a new understanding of the world through the same old eyes. Reflecting on the last stage of my life, I am now in the position of a doctor healing a patient. My patient–me–broke his leg, and failed to set the bone. So it healed wrong. And for the last four years, I’ve been hobbling around on a wrongly-set leg, wondering why I can’t run like I used to be able to.
Note to self: the fact that I learned how to run with a hobbled leg should not be taken as proof that my leg is healed.
So, this semester has been one wherein I had to re-break my leg. Yes, it was painful. Incredibly so. And now, while I am still hurting from the break, I must make sure to set it correctly. This stuff must be obvious to some people. But I’m one of those who learn the hard way. Maybe that’s everyone, and most others are just fantastically good at hiding it. There’s even room to extend the metaphor, but that would just be gratuitous. And nobody likes gratuitousness. (Star Wars references excepted. Those are always ok.)
I am only now coming around to remembering what it is like to be motivated to do things again. The apathy is draining from my mind; I see a path where none was before. I should have taken a lesson from my brewing: nothing can hurry beer along. Some things can only improve with time and rest. I am possessed again of hope.