When I first entered Gallatin for grad school, I was trying to fit into what I thought was wanted, what I thought made most practical sense. I’d mashed together everything I thought I might want to do in the hopes that putting a little effort into all of them would prevent me from failure in any one of them. I couldn’t fail because I couldn’t be judged on any formerly existing rubric. I’d outsmarted the system.
And that’s why I felt overwhelmed in the program. I was intimidated as hell by people who actually had a vision. They saw what they wanted and how they could help the world. They were ready to use this school to obtain the help they needed to further their mission in this life. And there I was, grateful that I’d made it into a grad school. Grateful that it happened to have a name that was impressive. And I lost it. I broke down. Because I couldn’t maintain the facade. Because I couldn’t dial it in and have it work out and still make me look impressive.
My fraud was showing and I knew it. And I shrank from it. Ran from it. Rebelled against it by placing the blame on the school and how it operated. Angry at them for not seeing through my ruse earlier and rejecting me as I should have been. Angry they didn’t give me the easy out and forced me to make a decision about whether or not j would stand up for myself, for my own life. I stared in the face of this challenge, of this universal commandment, and quivered. I accepted the invitation I knew wasn’t mine to take. And proceeded to blame everything around me for my shame. For my embarrassment. I took no control.
The day I accepted was one of the biggest surrenders I made In this life. On that day, I told the universe that I was giving up. I told my God that I didn’t believe in Him. Because how could I if I didn’t believe in my own voice? The one he had gifted me with? And so I readied my deathbed with arrogance. And by His grace, he gave me the strength to be saved. He sent angels in the form of friends who I would never have thought would be lifelines. It began an undoing that was exquisitely beautiful. Through that undoing I managed to make a last rally for my life. Through my decision to make mistakes, to ignore things, ignore my parents, worry them, fall into ruin….I was saved. To Pimp a Butterfly. That cocoon is a fucking bitch. But out of that grotesque state emerges something so beautiful. I got back my soul. It was a first step.
On that day I chose the path, and I’ve been on this journey that I thought would be light the whole time. Being on the light path doesn’t guarantee the light. Quite the opposite–it leads you on a path to SEEK the light. And you get glimpses of the glow. And those remind you why you’re working. The light is so beautiful that, for a moment, you think you’ve arrived. That the light is there to stay. But no, you keep going, keep working. And eventually it lasts a little bit longer…and then a second longer. And that is what this is about.
