- Healing is a strange process. Letting go of something that has held you captive, dominated every waking thought, should be painful. But I find that most times it isn't. Since I have very little recent healing to draw from, I take my examples from No Reservations and Harry Potter. A strange dichotomy I know. But in No Reservations, grief and fear control both Zoe and Kate without them realizing exactly how much pain they are in. And yet letting go of that brings so much joy. It was a gem of a movie and a gem of a story--a glimpse of the little things I dream of. And Harry had to let go of all the rage, mostly the rage at Snape, which evaporated with a few key memories and resulted instead with honoring him as one of the bravest men he had ever met. Again, a change which resulted in much less pain that it should have.
- I really hate nothing more than feeling like I don't belong compounded with the feeling that others are really sure I don't belong and look down upon me. I make more of it than I need to because of my unhealthy bottom-dwelling self-confidence, but I'm up on the floors doing these tedious chart audits and drawing unwelcome glances from most of the nurses and more of the same from my "boss" when I report on my progress. I don't understand why you would precept someone if you have no intention of monitoring their growth, mentoring them, answering their questions, making time to ensure that they are learning. There is a reason that some people don't teach. And those who shouldn't teach shouldn't try to do so in any capacity.
- I'm wondering at my lack of nostalgia and sadness at closing the book on the house. It was the largest part of my life for three years, not a paltry chunk of time. And yet, the memories there will last whether or not I live within the walls. I was sadder to say goodbye to the original six than I was saying goodbye to the bricks and wood. Never will I find such a unique, challenging, blessing-filled group of people to grace my home. And yet, I'm not really sad per se. Certainly none of the tears present last night belonged to me. I walked out without a backward glance. Is it a sign of hope for something brighter in the future or simply a sign that I never allowed myself to attach to something I knew to be temporary? I'm sadder at my lack of emotion than I am to be moving on.
- Another protestant wedding has me more grateful for the rich tradition and doctrine and truth of the Catholic Church. I try not to let my pride and love turn to condescension but I walk a fine line. Still more ideas for my own wedding which seems further away than ever. I'm trying to pray for trust. When my fourteen-year-old sister has more of her wedding planned out than I do, it seems to sap the hope for my own perfect day, perfect marriage, perfect vocation. I don't know why it should, why other people planning for their own marriage should make me fear the reality of my own. Again, I pray for trust.
The bullet points got longer than I thought, as my thoughts always tend to do. But that's why this is here. To allow me to get it said and let it go. And as I let it go, my thoughts turn to cheesecake awaiting me in the fridge and to tomorrow which brings more chart audits and other tasks void of learning. I'll have to make my own learning then. And on that ambitious note, I bid farewell.