I don't like change. I never have.
This year has been very transitional for me. First came graduating from Cal. That's obviously a good thing in my life, and I'm thankful for my education and the opportunities I have had that have put me where I am now.
Graduating meant looking for work. It took me a while to find something that would last me, first starting with tutoring, then taking the CBEST in order to ub later down the road, and now I'm working at the CPUC in San Francisco as an intern. Last week was my first week, and I'm already a little overwhelmed with everything they're throwing at me. This won't have any explicit effects in helping me become a better educator, but it will provide me another route to travel on if my education track is delayed.
And then Irene left for India. I become attached to my close friends, and I was sad to see her go, and was feeling selfish and abandoned. After becoming friends with her, finally, in the last semester of college, and seeing her nearly every week for this or that, her absence was immediately felt.
Living at home is a big deal. I didn't want to move back home, but I didn't have a job and was running out of money so that was the only viable option for me. My room is no longer my own. I no longer have a space that is all of me and my own creation. Not to say that the apartment was "mine" per se, but it was my own space. And moving away from Daniel was tough too. He was a good roommate, and we got along well.
Then So-Youn died. I had already dealt with the loss of two loved ones earlier this year, and I wasn't expecting this. No one was. A completely random and senseless moment of sadness. I was a mess for a few weeks after hearing of her passing. I didn't want to see anyone and didn't want to talk to anyone. Almost as if me keeping away from the world would cause everything to stand still for just a bit longer. Everyone would stay put and I wouldn't have to bury another friend. I'm still sad, but less so. My grieving process is always a long one.
I don't like change. It's very hard on me, and I don't accept it easily. I get very attached to spaces and people, and when I have to let them go, I feel as if I am physically torn from them, leaving a part of me behind with the missing pieces. It takes me a while to feel whole again, but I eventually do. I don't know if I'm there yet, but I'm working on it. Trying to keep busy. Trying to stay focused.
Kevin told me that change is a part of growing up. More specifically that death is a part of growing up, and that we're going to have to experience the pain of loss again and again in our lives. I understand this. I accept this. I just don't like it.
Moving down to socal will be my next big change. I dread it and yet I am excited for it. I am not afraid. I am just attached. When it comes time to leave socal, if that time ever comes, I'll not want to leave.
Why? Is it because it's too difficult? Is it because that staying put is just easier? I don't want to claim that as the answer, but it certainly sounds like it could be.
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On another note... Next semester, I'm going to get my black belt. I know why I want it now. And I'll do it at UCMAP. It'll mean more. It took me 3 years to figure it out, but i think I'm ready for it now. Last year, when I was training for it, I kept thinking about what I would say when the panel asked me "why do you want to be a black belt?" The only answer I could come up with at the time was "because you want me to," or "otherwise I won't be allowed back." For me, getting a black belt in a martial art is something more than "just the next thing." It's not just the next thing. It's a big deal, at least to me, and I needed to make sure that my motivations were legitimate and my own. I'm ready. I'm going to begin training again this winter.
Sunday
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hey, I didn't realize you have a blog. Subscribed.
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