No. Instead, I told myself, I'm going to write. It has been so long! And if I'm not going to be productive, I might as well do something... productive. True Vanessa fashion. Really though, writing used to make me happy. And I suspect that deep down, underneath all the layers of stress and tears and frustration and caffeine-dependence that nursing school has dumped all over my ambitious little soul, it still does. So here I am. Looking back on the last 15 or so months since the last time I wrote - and the two and a half years that have passed since I started this blog, I am feeling pretty amazed at how far I have come... and also pretty amused at all the ways that life is still the same.
For instance, now that graduation is only about a month away, that "thrilled and anxious and ecstatic and frightened and ... utterly bewildered and bittersweet" feeling I described two summers ago is back with a vengeance. I have a sneaking suspicion that nursing school is a sort of rite of passage that (eventually) earns you admission to your first job, at which time you will slowly and painstakingly learn all the things that are actually important to being a competent registered nurse. But not before you pass the NCLEX and are formally given a license to stick people with both sharp and blunt objects of various shapes and sizes. Please stay tuned for the results of that little endeavor.
Another thing I noticed as I perused all my old posts is that I tend to come to the same realizations. Over. And over. Again.
Be here now. Imperfection is okay. You're pretty cool. Everybody else is pretty cool too. Run. Breathe. Relax. Enjoy. This too shall pass. Love is always greater than fear. "Don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy." You are exactly where you need to be. And a smattering of remarks about how living in Colorado was awesome, but it wasn't Colorado that made it so great... it was the Living part.
I think I'm finally getting all of those little things (some days). Or, at least, I try to take myself less seriously (most days). I've been listening to and reading a lot of Brené Brown (who is outstanding, by the way, and I would recommend her stuff to anyone with a sense of humor, a spirit or a pulse), and she has a ton of fantastic things to say about loving your stories and owning your journey. I think part of the reason it has taken me so long to get back to this blog is because I was trying to separate myself from all that pain-in-the-butt soul searching I spent the first half of this decade of life doing. I figured that if I ever wanted to start blogging again, I would just start a new page. I've always liked blank slates and closure, because let's face it, who doesn't? Life is messy and imperfect and disorderly and maddeningly slow at times and unbearably swift at others. It would be nice to imagine that one day, all of that will be over and we'll "get it" and have these picture-perfect lives where we know everything and love everyone and flush rainbows down the toilet. But that isn't what happens, and furthermore, dreaming of that impossible tidy package drives us away from all the messy, imperfect, disorderly things that highlight our individuality, make our lives unique and define our personal journeys.
So the blog rolls on! I'm hoping to write more regularly now that I'm approaching my triumphant re-entry to actual adult life. Because if there's anything that I've learned, not only is imperfection the most underrated value on the planet, but life is colorful, and that's pretty cool too.
