melancholy and not so motivated...
mars hill grad school is unlike any other program. that's why i came here, right? but i didn't fully realize the implications of choosing to come here. and, though i know full realization has yet to arrive, i am learning something of what it means to be a mars hill student. melancholy may quickly become my middle name.
i must be soberly thoughtful and pensive, in a way that evokes sadness, in much of my studies. i am asked to write stories of tragedy in my life, and analyze how i've told such stories. am i connected? have i left out important pieces because they feel too painful to write down? what have i done with the impact of this scene in my life since that time? i am asked to share stories of wounding in my life with a small group of peers in practicum, and receive feedback and healing as i allow them to see and speak into my pain. i am asked to look honestly at how i relate to others, and to begin to dig not only into why i am the way i am, but how that impacts my relationships and how it will impact my potential patients. these are weighty things, and they deserve quiet consideration.
and while i am not thrown into despair and depression (praise the lord), i am easily distracted by my melancholy. i don't want to write, i'd rather just sit and think. and i don't want to read, i'd rather just watch a movie. and i don't want to do the dishes or the laundry, i'd rather just sleep. and let me tell you, much as i love the rain, it is so tempting to curl up on the couch or in bed and just spend these wet days lazing around. i suppose i can't blame it all on the rain - it's not so heavy when i'm not motivated to do much.
i need to learn how to want to do things in the midst of my remembering and my raining...
mars hill grad school is unlike any other program. that's why i came here, right? but i didn't fully realize the implications of choosing to come here. and, though i know full realization has yet to arrive, i am learning something of what it means to be a mars hill student. melancholy may quickly become my middle name.
i must be soberly thoughtful and pensive, in a way that evokes sadness, in much of my studies. i am asked to write stories of tragedy in my life, and analyze how i've told such stories. am i connected? have i left out important pieces because they feel too painful to write down? what have i done with the impact of this scene in my life since that time? i am asked to share stories of wounding in my life with a small group of peers in practicum, and receive feedback and healing as i allow them to see and speak into my pain. i am asked to look honestly at how i relate to others, and to begin to dig not only into why i am the way i am, but how that impacts my relationships and how it will impact my potential patients. these are weighty things, and they deserve quiet consideration.
and while i am not thrown into despair and depression (praise the lord), i am easily distracted by my melancholy. i don't want to write, i'd rather just sit and think. and i don't want to read, i'd rather just watch a movie. and i don't want to do the dishes or the laundry, i'd rather just sleep. and let me tell you, much as i love the rain, it is so tempting to curl up on the couch or in bed and just spend these wet days lazing around. i suppose i can't blame it all on the rain - it's not so heavy when i'm not motivated to do much.
i need to learn how to want to do things in the midst of my remembering and my raining...
You read my mind, lovely....and you say it with better words.
procrastinating and avoiding,
mer
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