I suppose it would do to pay tribute to this past year and what it has shown me. If I were a smarter blogger, I would have begun this tribute twelve days prior to the New Year, like a prayerful devotion, lamenting on each month of 2013. I am not, however, and instead am focusing on moments that I feel have truly changed me, left me wanting, waiting or feeling loved. Because it is the small moments that turn your world upside down.
Recently, I have been led to question exactly who I am.
All in twelve months, I have questioned my faith, who I am, what I am doing, what my major is, the degree I'm graduating with, who my friends are, what my family means to me... everything that you could possibly think of--every bad thought, good thought, terrible thought, positive wishes, desires, and expectation has gone through my mind.
And all of it--all three-hundred sixty-four days--have led to this single day, the last day of 2013. I woke up this morning to so many poignant, thoughtful statuses about what the year has brought each individual on my Facebook newsfeed, where their journey has taken them and where they believe they are going to be. All the statuses, they are joyful, optimistic, full of life and sheer delight. I think that's what strikes me most deeply on these final few hours of 2013:
That as much as I am filled with hope, I am also filled with trepidation.
These next few months bring on a new era of exams, of decisions and of goals that are either achieved or pushed to the wayside. Every decision has the potential to change the course of my life as I know it. Every decision has the potential to bring me closer to my family, places me further away from them, to allow me to keep friends or lose them, but most of all...every decision has an impact on the way I want to live my life. And I don't even know what that is yet!
But looking back... having done what I have done this year, from attending conferences to speaking at events, to failing a class and sacrificing a summer, traveling to Chicago (on a whim!!), finally making it through my final content-based semester of nursing school and NOT getting cut, my heart has decided that it is ready. Nervous, but ready. And through every hardship, every high, low, trial, tribulation and every moment of beauty...I take comfort in the realization that no longer do the changing of seasons carry the weight of the world because, my friends, there are some things that time has no effect on.
Time can change the color of my hair, straighten my teeth (with the help of Invisalign), age my skin, wear out my bones, muscles and joints, give me wrinkles, and change my taste in clothes, colors and style, but it will never take away the memories I have made, the lessons I have learned, the family I was born with and the friends who have stood by me day after day after day. Nervous, I am, but uncertain is not the same thing as afraid. For there are few beautiful things left in this world and tonight, in these last few hours, I will relish in the knowledge that I sit before my laptop screen a changed person, who loves many and is loved by many, all of us standing outside the touch of time. And here, I leave you with my final thought of this beautiful, crazy, devastating year.
We live outside the touch of time.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Without Purpose
These past few weeks have been filled with finals, friends and more finals. Now, we're all trying to stave off the natural anxiety that comes with the purposeful waiting for grades, the final piece of the puzzle. I'm a nursing student, you see, and while for many majors, grades are important...in nursing, they are essential.
Let me explain. Nursing students are trained in a hierarchical system. They let a large amount of students in at the beginning of your four years in the program and then, begin snipping away at the masses beginning at the end of your first semester. You are allowed one strike--one failed attempt in any of your coursework--before you are released from the program aka kicked out. Every semester, then, you can imagine, is fraught with tension as students fight to stay on top of our passing grade (a 77, anything below that is failing), allowing them to make the cut.
I, personally, already have one strike, as do many of my fellow classmates. While I'm devastated about the failing grade, I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the idea that it does not determine my worth or value as a human being. We'll talk about that another time. Back to grades.
This set of final exam grades will determine whether or not I walk at graduation in May 2014 (aka this coming May) and if, by some terrible stroke of misfortune on this path of life, I do not make the cut...I will not only be unable to graduate--I will have to change my major. Seven semesters of being a nursing student only to lose it because of one measly grade. It's unthinkable and it's terrifying, believe me. There are days when I don't understand why I put myself through this kind of pressure. I would have been perfectly fine just majoring in a science that I enjoy and minoring in something obscure and completely useless like Latin or 18th century literature in England, but I chose nursing. And I think it comes down to that I would have been "perfectly fine" doing anything else... but I wouldn't be happy.
A long time ago, I was talking to a friend of mine. We were both in high school discussing our future career goals (nerd alert) and I said to him...I am going to work in the medical field. There was not a doubt in my mind and my voice didn't waiver a bit. He looked at me, surprised, and asked me if I was just going to give up playing piano, then. You see, at this point, I was a competitive pianist, taking lessons every week and practicing almost three to four hours a day. And I looked up, equally surprised, and told him that playing piano was just something that I loved and I would never be good enough to play professionally. He shook his head at me and said "Ten years from now, you're going to tell me that you wished you majored in piano...in Julliard instead of in a hospital, on stage at Carnegie Hall instead of in an office."
I was honored by his honesty. But he taught me something very valuable that day, a lesson I didn't learn until about a year ago. Ready for this?
You choose what you love.
I'm not going to dishonor him by lying to all of you and saying that I don't miss playing the piano. I've been playing since I was four, I played on stage at some wonderful places and I know, in my heart of hearts, that I was at least a little bit better than mediocre and I loved it. God, do I love it. But when I think back on this conversation and feel the pit that has settled in my stomach for the day, waiting for my grades to come back on December 20th at 2am...I am reminded that I didn't choose this path because I loved it more or because it was better or because I would make more money. I chose this path because I knew that I was willing to sacrifice everything I loved for a big, big dream.
Whatever these grades bring me, I'm ready. But now, after seven semesters of blood, sweat, tears and laughter, I have learned that no matter what hardships your choice brings you, your life is not without purpose.
You create that, too.
Let me explain. Nursing students are trained in a hierarchical system. They let a large amount of students in at the beginning of your four years in the program and then, begin snipping away at the masses beginning at the end of your first semester. You are allowed one strike--one failed attempt in any of your coursework--before you are released from the program aka kicked out. Every semester, then, you can imagine, is fraught with tension as students fight to stay on top of our passing grade (a 77, anything below that is failing), allowing them to make the cut.
I, personally, already have one strike, as do many of my fellow classmates. While I'm devastated about the failing grade, I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the idea that it does not determine my worth or value as a human being. We'll talk about that another time. Back to grades.
This set of final exam grades will determine whether or not I walk at graduation in May 2014 (aka this coming May) and if, by some terrible stroke of misfortune on this path of life, I do not make the cut...I will not only be unable to graduate--I will have to change my major. Seven semesters of being a nursing student only to lose it because of one measly grade. It's unthinkable and it's terrifying, believe me. There are days when I don't understand why I put myself through this kind of pressure. I would have been perfectly fine just majoring in a science that I enjoy and minoring in something obscure and completely useless like Latin or 18th century literature in England, but I chose nursing. And I think it comes down to that I would have been "perfectly fine" doing anything else... but I wouldn't be happy.
A long time ago, I was talking to a friend of mine. We were both in high school discussing our future career goals (nerd alert) and I said to him...I am going to work in the medical field. There was not a doubt in my mind and my voice didn't waiver a bit. He looked at me, surprised, and asked me if I was just going to give up playing piano, then. You see, at this point, I was a competitive pianist, taking lessons every week and practicing almost three to four hours a day. And I looked up, equally surprised, and told him that playing piano was just something that I loved and I would never be good enough to play professionally. He shook his head at me and said "Ten years from now, you're going to tell me that you wished you majored in piano...in Julliard instead of in a hospital, on stage at Carnegie Hall instead of in an office."
I was honored by his honesty. But he taught me something very valuable that day, a lesson I didn't learn until about a year ago. Ready for this?
You choose what you love.
I'm not going to dishonor him by lying to all of you and saying that I don't miss playing the piano. I've been playing since I was four, I played on stage at some wonderful places and I know, in my heart of hearts, that I was at least a little bit better than mediocre and I loved it. God, do I love it. But when I think back on this conversation and feel the pit that has settled in my stomach for the day, waiting for my grades to come back on December 20th at 2am...I am reminded that I didn't choose this path because I loved it more or because it was better or because I would make more money. I chose this path because I knew that I was willing to sacrifice everything I loved for a big, big dream.
Whatever these grades bring me, I'm ready. But now, after seven semesters of blood, sweat, tears and laughter, I have learned that no matter what hardships your choice brings you, your life is not without purpose.
You create that, too.
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