The Countdown Begins

Tomorrow is my second LSAT diagnostic. I am dreading it more than I think I have dreaded most things in life. It is in many ways a significant example of my inability to make my own decisions, my clear lack of motivation or desire to succeed in the absence of passion, and worst of all a sign of my procrastination driven by what I would presume to be depression that is highly recognizable but that I steer under the radar in order to function in daily circumstances. The point is, the more the pressure beats down, the more I want to cut and run.

The strange thing is, I've never been the run away type. I've never been the quitting type, or the take time for me type. Only in extreme situations of dire exhaustions have I succumbed to the temptations of procrastination or have I fallen back from an obligation. Rarely had it been an issue of desire. What is it in me then that literally draws me away from my studies and to any other pursuit? My teacher thinks it is some kind of cognitive response to the pressures of the test itself. Others claim self sabotage. Could it be at age 21 I am buckling under the pressure? Or could it be that only now am I truly recognizing my ability to stand on my own and determine what I want?

Nevertheless, there is roughly 5 weeks until the test, 3 diagnostics, 2 jam sessions, 10 more classes, and 3 reviews. I will conquer this as I have been through much worse, though most dreadful occassions come unexpectedly in life. This one's terror, I believe, comes more in the anticipation. And so, the countdown begins...Blech.

Looking for my medium

I'm in an LSAT class, which, to most people is a ready indication of your full and adequate desire to attend law school and in most accounts to become an attorney. I still, however, have not overcome the pit of doubt that resides in the bottom of my stomach. I attend my class and study as I can. My blue books are these haunting reminders I carry with me and a weight on my shoulder; the reason I carry a bag rather than a purse. I'm trying really hard to want this and most of the time I do but on days like today I think, is this my dream?

There is this part of me that refuses to take any job, rather do any job that doesn't directly or positively affect other people in a good way. That is why I wanted to do Teach for America, to affect people, to make a difference in their lives. I often look to what I used to want to do and realize I must not look to what I wanted in the past or what made me happy then, because I have evolved and I have changed and I must now look to what makes me happy. I so often look to what might may make a direct impact and am reminded by stories of history, politics and even my family that maybe I don't need to be directly touching someone to impact their life.

What I mean to say is, I often look to programs like TFA or other non profits and volunteerism to directly impact people thinking this is the only way I can impact people; that that may be my only medium or means of reaching the world, making my mark. What I so frequently forget is that if I maintain my integrity and strength of character in what I do, always, I will make that impact in what I do, whatever it may be. That is not to say I no longer want to reach people, but I so narrowly defined my focus. I look at people I admire, newsman from past and present, film makers, artists, writers, even lawyers. Their impact is not always in what they do one on one to meet us in our lives but in the way they interact with us through their public mediums. I'm looking for my passion, for my dream, for my medium. I'm really just looking.

In the meantime, the studying continues....

“Just because your voice reaches halfway around the world doesn't mean you are wiser than when it reached only to the end of the bar.” -Edward R. Murrow

A Change is Gonna Come

I've heard that when you leave a dog that they feel that loss or sense that change. While this claim is backed up by no greater evidence than word of mouth based on my experiences most recently with my dog Teddy, I believe this to be true. I've wondered as of late if this is true of humans. If we feel the same sense of loss and appreciably in the same way. When my family left town leaving me and Teddy to hold down the fort, so to speak, his appetite seemed to fade, his desire to play was gone, he stared out the window longingly and everytime I left the house it was as if it were for the last time. I've been told (again by word of mouth) that this kind of experience wears on a dogs mind, heart, body and perhaps even their soul. So if a person, if they abandoned the hope that their loved ones were to return, had repeated episodes of loss, would it age them as it does a dog? Hope, as it were exists only as a glimmer, kept alive by love, faith and our hearts. Loss seems to be a much stronger and weightier feeling. I'm not trying to be a downer it just seems when times are hard we are more apt to let loss take us over than let hope be our guide.

The wind is blowing in the backyard today. A strong breeze indicating a change is coming. My family returns Monday and my hope remains, so my dog-human theory remains only speculation. The breeze however blows to usher in the fall. However hard it blows though, the leaves will not fall. They are not yet ready to come down, their colors have not changed. I wonder what it means; but the breeze always prevails.