Closing Time once more

Tomorrow we are returning to America after being here for ten days. Dang, ten days is short. Too short.

I didn't realize how much I missed this place until I got here. I feel free. I feel that I'm doing enough. It's nice to feel adequate again.

Today I bade goodbye to many of my friends and much of my family. (A fuller description may follow.) It's very strange. Honestly, I really don't want to go back. America is work and the weight of obligation and constant insanity in comparison with here. I'm going to miss it so much.

But if there's one thing I've learned, it's that you can't dwell on where you aren't. For the next few hours I'm here, and then I'll be somewhere else, and that's that. No point aching when there's nothing to be done.

So now that I've been sufficiently restored, and now that I've gotten my crazy back, I think going back is gonna be okay. I'll learn, I'll work, and then I'll come here and feel better. I suppose this will be my natural cycle from now on. And I guess that's okay.

It's Okay

About two months ago, I had a dilemma.

I was thinking of applying to BU Academy - a private school full of nerds, basically. It has rigorous academics, fun people, nice art programs, etcetera.

I realize now that it likely would never have happened, but I was still seriously considering it.

I wanted to go there partly because it sounded wonderful and I would be happy there, but more to prove to myself that I could and would be intellectually superior.

The thing about me is this. Nobody ever insulted me or said I was bad at anything I do, be it art or writing or schoolwork. Nobody does, and I don't want them to. But I sometimes think so lowly of myself that it doesn't matter - I do it worse than anybody else, because no one stops me and usually I can't stop myself.

So basically, I got it into my head that I could not be the person I want to be if I did not apply and get into this school, mostly because of the academics. For myself, I always have to be good at what I do, or at least moderately so (in the case of dance). Any bad grade and I will crush myself inside constantly for a few days, then every so often for the following weeks. I will try to do everything I can about it but I will still feel absolutely horrible.

After about two weeks of sheer misery, I decided not to apply to that school. It costs thirty thousand dollars each year, and my parents work in education and music. We could afford it with financial help, but not easily, and I think I would feel so bad about using up so much that I would be even harder on myself. But more importantly, thinking about it so much made me feel horrible and stressed and sometimes sick. It made me feel stupid because many of my classes at my school are easy for me.

It was really hard - harder than I had thought - to let go of that. I still feel inadequate sometimes about myself. But after some weeks, it began to wear off, and I was able to joke about it again. And I'm beginning to realize - it's okay. It's okay to not go to the school where your entire life is grades and work. It's okay to spend a lot of time on things that aren't school-related, things that feed a different part of me - like art and writing and music and reading. It's okay not to overflow your head with work you don't understand. It's okay to be happy with where you are.

Another thing that is hard for me to realize is that yes, I want to know everything. But the time for knowing it all will come eventually. There are things that I am not in the position to know, because others must be learned first. And that's okay.

Choreography

I was thinking of not going to ballet today because I've got a blister between my toes from walking too long in my flip-flops after not wearing any ever. But the blister ain't that bad and it was the last day. So.

I came, expecting to have to explain to the teacher how I couldn't do pointe today because I had a blister, etcetera etcetera, when she asked the pianist to give us a few waltzes so we could do choreographies to them - though she called them "improvisations." I got myself a group of four and we did a short dance to the slower of the waltzes.

I think it was good. We finished first, so while the other groups were still practicing, I went and did some actual improvisation, which was immense fun.

We showed the dances, then the class finished early. I said goodbye to the teacher and pianist, as well as most of the girls. It's weird, this is like a softer, subtler version of the nostalgia I felt before coming here. Which is okay, because I guess that's what you're supposed to feel.