New Beginnings and Endings

On this day next week, I will have started yet another Master's Degree program in an entirely new field. I have absolutely NO idea what to expect and quite honestly, I am terrified out of my mind. All I've wanted to do over the past few days is get completely wasted and fall asleep - leaving little to no time for any sort of thinking. Tonight, I decided, I should take a break from the debauchery and deal with some of my feelings, and yet, thus far, I've spent the night talking on the phone, eating and watching TV, followed by some Facebook stalking and now blogging. I just don't know if this is the best move for me. And if not, then what is? On some days, I feel as if Counseling is such a natural fit for me. I've had professors, family members, friends and bosses tell me this too. And in some ways, I believe it. But there is another very active part of me that is saying, "But, I wanted to live a creative life. I wanted to be a singer/songwriter. It's all I've ever wanted and all I will ever want."

This is the voice that scares me. How do I just "become" a songwriter? And where does this urge that I've had since childhood come from? Which part of me do I develop and nurture the most? Do I focus on psychology, spirituality, music business or creating music. The latter sounds the most delicious to me, but I just don't know how to go about doing it.

I was supposed to start therapy, myself, tomorrow, but the therapist had to cancel on me. In a way, I had wanted this to happen. I was actually going to cancel on her for a brief moment there, but decided I should stick with my original appointment. Strangely, this is the second time this week that I've had someone cancel their appointment with me. And more to the point, I've been ok with it. In fact, I think that maybe I even manifested it. Lately, I've just been trying to go with the flow of life. After Q's death a month ago, I felt a door inside me open. In the darkness of my grief, I could literally feel myself opening, as if living and loving suddenly became more of an urgent priority. Living and loving, deliberately, and on purpose...Perhaps this is Q's final message to me.

As I approach thirty, everything feels as though it is speeding up. I feel like there is much to be done, accomplished, conquered, and yet at the same time, I feel a seed of peace sprouting inside of me which says, "Don't worry. It will all work out exactly as it should." Not sure if this is comforting or not, but the point is, I am embracing life more fully and trying to connect with others in a way which I never allowed myself to before.

I get mad a Q sometimes when I think about how he's been missing out on life. How he never got to truly love or be loved. Maybe he never let anyone see the real him. That scares me, because I know I keep people out too. I often project distance, distraction, and a seeming indifference which is anything but how I truly feel. I will never know why Q chose to end his life, but I also understand it in a weird way. Life does not always come easy, but maybe there is something beautiful in that. At the wedding I went to this past weekend, I thought a lot about Q. While I watched this beautiful ceremony unfold and was surrounded by majestic mountains and close friends, I felt so glad that I was there getting to take it all in, and so sad for Q that he would never again see a sunset, or spend time with people who loved him, or even have sex again. And he made that decision on his own. He said to the world, "I don't want to see anymore, I can't take it" and that was it. But when I was wiping tears from my eyes this weekend in profound awe over my friends' ability to love, and feeling the sun against my face as we climbed to the highest peak in the Catskills, and hearing the soft rain falling on a canopy of trees above us, and watching the light cast shadows on the field of green behind us, I said to Q, "I can't believe you'd rather be dead than see this now - than hear this, breathe this or be here now." It is my loss that I will never be able to see him again, but it really is his loss, that at age 26, he chose to go.

Wow, I guess I needed to write about him. Not that I don't think about him obsessively, but putting it down in words - well, it's something I've sort of been avoiding actually. Writing makes life permanent and it often forces us to see those things which we don't have to look at when there is nothing written.

Which brings me back to fear - fear of starting my new career path, fear of never falling in love, fear of life - and the simultaneous fear of not living. I don't know what to expect, but that's the point, isn't it? Life surprises us, it shocks us, it makes us hurt and cry, but it also brings us lovers, friends, happiness and moments of the most pure beauty possible. And it is on this note that I am trying to go with the flow of life rather than against it. If love is not in my cards, then so be it. If I hate this program (or love it), then so be it. If I become (or don't become) a successful songwriter, then, SO BE IT. I am sick of struggling against life all the time.

Going to release the past now, going to relinquish control over the future, and going to just be me for a second - living in the present moment in all it's scary new beginnings which can only arise from the endings we tell ourselves we hate so dearly.