I'm in the process of writing applications, but they aren't quite done. Classes have begun, but two days were canceled because of snow. Ace has started his meds (for an ear infection), but it hasn't really started to make a difference. Everything is just in between.
I think Victor Turner might delight (or despair) in my use of his infamous term to describe my state (and title my entry), but his description of the initiates feels appropriate. As if I were on the edge of a revelation, as if I were to become part of something bigger, as if I were about to emerge as a new member of my "culture-sharing group," as if I were about to embark on a quest alone into the great big world--I must wait. That's not to say that I am idle. I am busy preparing statements, brainstorming, organizing readings, daydreaming about the future, and living here in Boston.
Since it's February and I'm finding Boston's weather to be rather brutal, I decided to buy a monthly bus pass. That's right: unlimited rides on the bus (if you grew up with public transit systems that are reliable--or existent!!--you don't understand the glory that is a Boston public bus). The pass seemed like the right choice given the fact that I start my training routine in earnest this week (hear more about why I'm training here)and will likely have to spend late nights on campus poring over ancient texts (seriously, I have a class whose texts reach back all the way to Plato. Awesome.). For the most part the bus is relatively on time (in a five to ten minute window either way) and definitely toasty as compared to the whipping wind, biting frost, and sudden onslaught of rain that pervade this Bostonian winter. This evening in such weather, I made my way to the bus stop nearest the Divinity School two minutes before the bus was to arrive to take me home. I stood in the cold, bemoaning the fact that I had forgotten my hat and my gloves as drops of rain ran off my eyebrows.
I looked in the direction of the bus. Nothing. Car, car, bike, man with umbrella, car honking at man, car, car. I checked my watch. Should have been here five minutes ago. A car honked as it drove by. Well, I thought to myself. Perhaps I should wait a bit longer. As I stood there weighing my options, that old familiar feeling came over me. Somewhere between anticipation and indecision, I was perched on the edge of change and movement--the pause before the song, the deep inhale before the dive. I hesitated a moment longer and then, before I could even make my decision conscious I was walking through freezing rain and ice covered bricks back to my home. Slipping the whole way, there were moments of doubt. I would look over my shoulder and think, Man, should I have just waited a while longer? But even as I thought that, I realized that there was something very refreshing about a late night walk through the snow and ice with rain dropping on my head, as if I had really never experienced a moment like this before. Before even realizing that I had beat the bus home, I knew that I'd made the right choice.
The struggle between deciding to take the bus or walk has the same character to it that my life seems to have right now. I'm waiting for a lot to take form, both at Harvard and beyond, and that can be an uncomfortable stage for me. So often in my life, though, I've found that when I feel like I need to take some action, but I don't know what that action might be, that really I just need to wait. Give it a while to rest. Take a deep breath and see what comes of it.
I guess sometimes you have to wait for the bus just long enough to know that you're supposed to walk in the rain.
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