When one enters a grueling masters of music program in addition taking on a teaching assistantship that includes running at break-neck speeds on behalf of the university athletic bands and simultaneously attempting to hold a marriage together in the midst of it all, it's a little disorienting to sit down when it's all finished and finally take a deep breath.
I was almost scared to.
I knew that in the middle of all the crazy weeks of unwashed laundry, late night writing sessions, cramming for tests and projects as Marching Mizzou revved up for rehearsal because it was the only time I available, I had completely lost myself. It sounds terrible, and I tried so hard to not let it happen. I balanced things so well in the beginning and then all of a sudden it transformed into a brutal game of survival. There were unexpected blows at every turn with hardly a moment to catch a gasping breath.
Picture a less deadly version of The Hunger Games.
Only the protagonist has a baby at the end.
Well...I haven't read the second two books, so maybe she does have a baby in the end. If she does, I'd be super impressed. Especially if she did it without meds in the wilderness. Which is pretty much the way I did.
Don't worry...I'll save that story for a different blog post. :)
In all seriousness though, when the room stopped spinning and I did finally let myself reflect on the past two years, I was excited to figure out what this new life would look like. The puzzle pieces are all scattered about, and I am (im)patiently waiting to see how they will fit together. I know there's a plan for it all, and instead of anxiously fretting about what the next step is--I'm just going to try to enjoy the ride.
Today I am thankful for where I am. I have students to teach, places to play, words to write, and a home to keep. I have a beautiful daughter and a hard-working husband, and a gracious God who loves me more than I could ever imagine. What else is there, really?