I cried as I went over my notes.
Tears running down my face, as I repeatedly wrote out page after page in short hand, to help myself memorize it all. I don't remember things the way I used to. Beethoven playing in the background, drowning out unwanted sounds.
I was asked today why I felt such a strong need to go back to school again. I had my cookie cutter answers ready. The ones people expect to hear. Just adding more tools to my practice, life long student, making sure I have job security. Of course I'm loving it. These answers only contain a grain of truth.
The deeper truth is twofold- I know I need to be able to stand on my own two feet. I can never, nor should I expect anyone to take care of me. If anything has been reinforced over and over for me is- no one will come in riding on their snow white steed to sweep me off my feet, and take care of me. Not emotionally, not financially. So I build myself up again and again, finding more and more ways to shore up an almost unwanted independence. In truth, it's not even that I want to be saved. Maybe knowing there's someone who just wants to. Who wants to "save"me, but will never really need to.
Secondly, I don't think there will be a day I trust my own intelligence. I will never be smart enough. Enough, enough. So I strive for more and more information to force into my brain. Maybe, just maybe I can know enough to feel like I'm not lagging behind in some way.
So I cry while I study. I hit my pillow exhausted at night, oftentimes not to sleep well. Fitfully turning over and over in my sleep. I've been told I twist and turn, making small noises with every movement.
It's not for lack of interest in the information. Of course I'm picking things I find fascinating. Things hopefully stimulating enough that I can lie to myself a bit- you're doing this just because you're passionate. That of course is such a small percentage of what drives me.
I imagine this won't be the last time I cry through my studies. Here's hoping for different reasons.
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