Theology and I took a mutual hiatus from one another. The church and I even more so. I occasionally spend my energies musing over the consequences and implications of this. Seems strange, coming from a once bible camp addict, campus ministries participant, religion major and pastoral-track M.Div candidate. I suppose in actuality I cannot attribute the blame, the entirety of my disillusionment, on my grad school institution, but with a bitter twinge of embedded resentment I do so.
The healing process is a long and winding one, a roadway littered with the remains of friends not forgotten but abandoned in callous self-preservation, the aching realization that I am not who I once was, the positive transformations partially obscured by the painful fretting over the negative ones. Dampened is my enthusiasm, my passions more difficultly piqued. I linger in the hopefulness of the contradictory moments, when my senses tingle and my intellect awakens and my whole being wants to bounce. They are there, frustratingly close and yet enduringly distant. I gaze at all the books on my shelf I that I want(ed) to read,
should read, tell myself I am going to read... and there they sit, untouched, unloved, uninspiring.
The scars remain, deeply etched on some of the most sensitive, and sometimes darkest, recesses of my ego. I am a fighter and a survivor, an irate wild creature when cornered (if only slowly provoked in extreme circumstances). The physical collateral damage is not from the scrapping, but from the apathy and situational depression through which I floundered, mostly in what felt like absolute solitude. One of my weaknesses, a procrastinatory streak which nary existed when it came to academia in college, is ratcheted much higher and motivation quickly wanes in the face of educational undertakings. Is this a sign of my (lack of) call? Of a loss of a career goal? Or a "call" that I should not pursue what for years made incredibly fitting sense?
The return to grad school bug bit hard in Colorado, working for a university and getting involved with the evaluative process of the professors. But unfortunately it didn't provide the necessary force to kick my butt
enough into motion to focus on my GRE (I started... but didn't fully commit and those books, too, still sit on my shelf, though more used than most). The deadlines suddenly loom large for next fall -- a month or two away and have yet to start my GRE processing again or my personal statements. [I wrote this, continued on with the post. After a pause, I take heart in knowing that jotting this down already stirred a flutter of motivation to go home and clean my room, to finally organize my desk and make it accessible, to move one halting step closer to actually
doing something. I knew there was a reason returning to blogging sounded like a good idea...]
I've relied on my writing strengths for so long, and grad school challenged or critiqued them not, and thus I wonder if they're still sufficient, if my instincts still hold water, or if words flow through the mind of the reader like a sieve, draining away as quickly as they came, sticking to nothing with even the droplets evaporating into oblivion. I quail before the idea of diving back into the fray, worried about what is drained from my own memory and ability to be the student, my theologizing muscles perhaps atrophied from apathy and disuse.
I often ponder where my life is headed, if I shouldn't be content to let things move towards a less lofty goal. But the general work force bores me. Sure I can administrate efficiently, but there is usually far less for me to do than my hours warrant, and though the bills are getting paid, I feel twinged with guilt for spending so much time
not working while on the clock. There I times I glimpse what could be -- how full and satisfying my days could be, my career any of a whole host of things. But here I sit, nowhere near grad school, three years out from my last schooling. Feeling a restless itch for something more, something different, something captivating even if challenging... and yet not acting on it.
And sometimes... well... there's a catalyst I'm hopeful for... but that's another post entirely. :)
