A Dream Deferred; or, the Consequences of Stress
After yet another tumultuous term -- because as of late, has there been any other kind? -- the end is in sight and I can feel the overwhelming relief coming over me. Unfortunately, though I am already home for the calendar year, I still have one more assignment to complete before I can close the door on the semester for good.
The road to this moment has been incredibly stressful, not in the least because I had pictured this semester as the one in which I would change my habits and work on things well in advance, a tactic that was well-intentioned but poorly executed. It was also, notably, the first semester in which I truly began to feel Scholar's Guilt: that sense when you do something fun (like, for instance, play some Wii or drink heavily while watching football) that you could -- and should -- be doing something productive, like reading or writing.
With a day left until it's all said and done, that guilt has finally dissipated a tad. Last night, for instance, I gave myself a little while to have a glass of wine, chat with my parents, and watch a few episodes of Family Guy, and I didn't feel all that bad about it. All because I know that, like or not, by the time midnight rolls around this evening, it will all be over and done with. What a relief.
Around this time of year, though, the high-pressure world of graduate work has instilled in me two rather distressing feelings that I wish I didn't have. The first, and most surprising, is the feeling that, despite being a mere eight days until the big day, it just doesn't feel like Christmas. Sure, once I start shopping in earnest and we decorate the tree and the house becomes filled with the aroma of mistletoe and peppermint candles, it'll kick in right on schedule. But the breathless anticipation that always accompanied Christmases of yesteryear has vanished as work consumes me. And I'll accept that you might be able to attribute some of that to my getting older and Christmas just not holding the same magic that it did when my age was in single digits, but I adore this time of year -- well, except for the weather -- and it bothers me that it just hasn't been the same for the past two years.
But the other feeling I've been getting from my immersion in work is that there are so many other things that I would like to be doing, that I wish I could be doing, but am not. It first hit me on the drive home from State College, while I took a friend to the airport in Philadelphia. The shuffle feature on my iPod played "Bounce" by System of a Down, and my traveling companion asked if we could listen to all of Toxicity as a result. I of course agreed, and then insisted that we follow it up by listening to Mezmerize and Hypnotize, which I regard as the peak of their creative output. It was not only a satisfying listen, but also a reminder that I used to have such reverence and appreciation for new music, and that with less time on my hands and more effort involved in finding good, new, original stuff, I'm not so much on the pulse of the music world as I am struggling to keep my blood pressure up.
The bottom line is that I have lots to read, lots to play, and lots to listen to, and I've been restricted (as I'm sure most of us have) by my school responsibilities. It sucks, to be sure, but none of this was what prompted me to write this post this morning. No, it was the dismaying experience I had upon awakening this morning that has spurred my fingers into non-Bloomsbury motion.
I went to sleep early last night expecting to wake up early and get working on my last paper. I set my alarm for 7:00am and hit the hay around 11:00pm, a solid eight hours that should have left me perfectly rested for the day ahead. I woke a couple times in the middle of the night, and just before the alarm went off, I fell asleep and slipped marvelously into a dream. I don't remember the exact content of the dream, but I do recall that the cast of characters was entrancing. One particular character -- yes, a female; and no, it wasn't that kind of dream -- was especially memorable even though she was, in terms of appearance, nondescript. There was a sweetness and tenderness to the dream that made me really happy, and when the alarm went off at 7:00am and jarred me rudely from the splendor, it was even more distressing than the typical unwanted wake-up call.
Disappointed, disjointed, and still kind of tired, I reset the alarm for 8:00am and fell back asleep. I was unable to rejoin the dream world I'd been in just minutes before, but I did manage to have another dream in which I and some close friends were riding roller coasters. Since the weather is the one thing about this time of year that I can't abide by, it was really rather pleasant to be imagining myself outside in warmth, partaking in one of my favorite hobbies. That too was disrupted by the alarm at 8:00am, and I probably should have known it was coming, but the fact that two of the best dreams I've had in recent memory were killed by an alarm -- and one that was set literally on the precipice of sweet freedom. Oh God, how I wish those dreams could have waited just one more day!
Instead, I lay in bed with my computer on my lap, recalling what a nice night of sleep I had and how great it would have been to be able to keep those dreams going. Or, if nothing else, to be able to maintain the feeling of calm and serenity that they created in me. That is, I believe, what I miss most of all about the person I was before grad school, and as far as I can tell, it's the thing that I'll be most invested in regaining come May.
And so, if you are so inclined, I invite you to use the comments to share your own nice dreams or hopeful aspirations that have been abruptly ended or temporarily sidelined. Seeing them all might be a nice way to try and realize them in the near future!
The road to this moment has been incredibly stressful, not in the least because I had pictured this semester as the one in which I would change my habits and work on things well in advance, a tactic that was well-intentioned but poorly executed. It was also, notably, the first semester in which I truly began to feel Scholar's Guilt: that sense when you do something fun (like, for instance, play some Wii or drink heavily while watching football) that you could -- and should -- be doing something productive, like reading or writing.
With a day left until it's all said and done, that guilt has finally dissipated a tad. Last night, for instance, I gave myself a little while to have a glass of wine, chat with my parents, and watch a few episodes of Family Guy, and I didn't feel all that bad about it. All because I know that, like or not, by the time midnight rolls around this evening, it will all be over and done with. What a relief.
Around this time of year, though, the high-pressure world of graduate work has instilled in me two rather distressing feelings that I wish I didn't have. The first, and most surprising, is the feeling that, despite being a mere eight days until the big day, it just doesn't feel like Christmas. Sure, once I start shopping in earnest and we decorate the tree and the house becomes filled with the aroma of mistletoe and peppermint candles, it'll kick in right on schedule. But the breathless anticipation that always accompanied Christmases of yesteryear has vanished as work consumes me. And I'll accept that you might be able to attribute some of that to my getting older and Christmas just not holding the same magic that it did when my age was in single digits, but I adore this time of year -- well, except for the weather -- and it bothers me that it just hasn't been the same for the past two years.
But the other feeling I've been getting from my immersion in work is that there are so many other things that I would like to be doing, that I wish I could be doing, but am not. It first hit me on the drive home from State College, while I took a friend to the airport in Philadelphia. The shuffle feature on my iPod played "Bounce" by System of a Down, and my traveling companion asked if we could listen to all of Toxicity as a result. I of course agreed, and then insisted that we follow it up by listening to Mezmerize and Hypnotize, which I regard as the peak of their creative output. It was not only a satisfying listen, but also a reminder that I used to have such reverence and appreciation for new music, and that with less time on my hands and more effort involved in finding good, new, original stuff, I'm not so much on the pulse of the music world as I am struggling to keep my blood pressure up.
The bottom line is that I have lots to read, lots to play, and lots to listen to, and I've been restricted (as I'm sure most of us have) by my school responsibilities. It sucks, to be sure, but none of this was what prompted me to write this post this morning. No, it was the dismaying experience I had upon awakening this morning that has spurred my fingers into non-Bloomsbury motion.
I went to sleep early last night expecting to wake up early and get working on my last paper. I set my alarm for 7:00am and hit the hay around 11:00pm, a solid eight hours that should have left me perfectly rested for the day ahead. I woke a couple times in the middle of the night, and just before the alarm went off, I fell asleep and slipped marvelously into a dream. I don't remember the exact content of the dream, but I do recall that the cast of characters was entrancing. One particular character -- yes, a female; and no, it wasn't that kind of dream -- was especially memorable even though she was, in terms of appearance, nondescript. There was a sweetness and tenderness to the dream that made me really happy, and when the alarm went off at 7:00am and jarred me rudely from the splendor, it was even more distressing than the typical unwanted wake-up call.
Disappointed, disjointed, and still kind of tired, I reset the alarm for 8:00am and fell back asleep. I was unable to rejoin the dream world I'd been in just minutes before, but I did manage to have another dream in which I and some close friends were riding roller coasters. Since the weather is the one thing about this time of year that I can't abide by, it was really rather pleasant to be imagining myself outside in warmth, partaking in one of my favorite hobbies. That too was disrupted by the alarm at 8:00am, and I probably should have known it was coming, but the fact that two of the best dreams I've had in recent memory were killed by an alarm -- and one that was set literally on the precipice of sweet freedom. Oh God, how I wish those dreams could have waited just one more day!
Instead, I lay in bed with my computer on my lap, recalling what a nice night of sleep I had and how great it would have been to be able to keep those dreams going. Or, if nothing else, to be able to maintain the feeling of calm and serenity that they created in me. That is, I believe, what I miss most of all about the person I was before grad school, and as far as I can tell, it's the thing that I'll be most invested in regaining come May.
And so, if you are so inclined, I invite you to use the comments to share your own nice dreams or hopeful aspirations that have been abruptly ended or temporarily sidelined. Seeing them all might be a nice way to try and realize them in the near future!
posted by Dave at 12/17/2008 09:38:00 AM
1 comments
