Getting my toes wet

Each summer my very large family would go camping at my uncles wooded acres lined by the sparkling river. It was the one time that we could all spend together ignoring everything what we didn’t have. These were the times that we were in our zone exploring the outdoors. Blond pigtails swinging back and fourth, baby blue eyes and my mickey mouse swim suit would excitedly skip to the riverbank on  warm summer days. It was here where the lessons of moderation would begin to unwind.

I went through a stage when I was about 4 where I would dip my toe in the water to see if it was too cold or not. Shortly after I learned that no matter how many times I dipped my toes in the water it was always cold. And the slower that I was to introduce the cold to my four year old body the slower that my body was to adapt. For a while I just didn’t go in. I sat on the bank and laughed at everyone else as they experienced the chills down their backs. As I got older I began to notice something miraculous about that water… that my siblings continued jumping in despite how cold it was. I watched intently only to learn another lesson… the chills are only temporary. It was here that I learned that I must be missing out on something good. My siblings were having much too much fun out there… so I was either missing out or my siblings were utterly insane.  Perhaps I even believed it to be a combination of the two.

When I was about nine I took a new approach to the water. I would walk out on a log that crossed the river and jump into one of the deeper spots. As I fell beneath  the waters surface and the cold crept onto my little body and I adapted much quicker. The initial shock was somewhat surprising at first and I didn’t necessarily like it. I distracted myself by swimming around for a short while. Once my body had adapted you had to pull me out of the water. Despite that I wasn’t a very good swimmer (I am still not to this day) I loved the water. I loved everything about it… floating, touching the sand below and the imagination that came with it. My parents or older siblings would have to quite literally come in and carry me out of the river in the summer. We would stand by the fire pit and attempt to warm up… turning from side to side as the heat began to warm at an uncomfortable rate.

When I was nine and a half or ten (we always counted halves back then) I began noticing something new about the water… if you stay in too long, get too comfortable and don’t move around it becomes cold again… and not only does one become cold when they are in the water too long they also become wrinkled. This was something that I found quite distasteful. But I was having fun so I ignored it. I remained in the water for as long as I could take it. With my siblings or by myself.  Rain or shine if we were camping I was in the water. Really… I’m not kidding. I was crazy enough to jump in as the Oregon rain trickled into the iceberg like river. I thought it was exhilarating.

At about the time I was 13 my brain must have begun working again. It was here that I learned about timing and moderation. I continued to enjoy the water but I spent much less time in it. Some days I would sit on the shore just watching it wave over the rapids. My brain must have made the connection from each experience. At four I had learned that the water was always cold. So I avoided it. This was one extreme. At nine I had realized that there were benefits to the water so I just jumped in and stayed in. The other extreme. Later I learned that neither were proper or wise choices.  So at thirteen I began planning what times I would go in the water. Around this time it was the warmest peak but it began getting cold around this time. And so my friends I learned planning and moderation. Occasionally I would still indulge in the pleasures of the ice cold water but I would no longer obsess over it.  No one had to pull me out or force me to go in. I was now old enough to do this myself.

The summer that I was 13 I had learned when to go in the water and what to bring with me. I had also learned to dry off quickly and how to keep warm by the fire pit without getting too warm. At 13 we should all already know about these things. And I find that even now at 23 (where I’d much rather take off halves than add them) that I am continuing to learn the same lesson: Balance. Moderation. Timing.

I’ve been looking into graduate school for some time now. And in January I had just about signed up and started my new program. I wanted to just jump in but finances worried me so I changed my mind. I took  too much time jumping in. I dipped my toe in the water and waded to my ankles and then ran back out of the water only to sit on the bank for a little while while all of my friends jumped off the log into law school or medical school or missions in Haiti. I remained on the shore.

Today I woke up early, did a few push ups and was so motivated that I automatically wanted to jump in, apply for graduate school and start tomorrow. This my friend is unrealistic. So I began planning. I decided on a program, contacted my admissions counselor and am waiting for a reply. For the rest of the day I will be on the phone with my current loan companies trying to straighten my current mess out. Once these are straitened, which will hopefully be by the end of the day I plan on submitting my application and starting to work on my Masters. These are crazy times my friend. And I find myself a tad embarrassed that I am still learning the lesson that started almost 20 years ago. Yet, I’m adult enough to recognize it and admit to it and hopefully do something about it.

I have chosen an online program, seeing that a campus program would not be best for me at this time. The program that I have chosen is fully accredited and well recognized. This is a researched decision. If finances pan out then so does school. And I do want to begin working on my degree as soon as possible. My brain craves knowledge. So here I stand at this fork in the road, with many many options and I’m about to take a step. Balance. This is one step to gain balance in my life.

It’s not about making money (though that would be nice) and it’s not about becoming something great (there is too much responsibility in that). It’s about maintaining balance and order and preventing stagnation. This my friend is a good choice. Though I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince you or myself at this point.  These things are about to happen. How exiting. School, Work, Moving, Taekwondo, Tutoring, Native Flutes… I will just have to make time. There is always time for the important things

Over and Out Friend,
Me