Et Cetera
"Nostalgia--It's delicate, but potent. In Greek, nostalgia literally means a pain from an old wound. It's a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone." -Don Draper
Back in April when my business school future was in doubt, I had an enduring scenario that stuck in my head. I'm at my pool, alone, standing over the deep end. It is a marvelous morning with clear blue skies and wispy white clouds. I dive into the emerald waters, and I swim back and forth, without a care in the world, because I know later in the Fall, I will move to New York to start a new career. And I think to myself, how wonderful everything is at this exact moment, where I am suspended, at least for a few hours, in between chapters of my life.
I clung to that image like a ship clinging to the rotating beam from a lighthouse during a storm. You have to understand I was an emotional tempest back then. I was on the ropes with my job, and I did not know what my future held. I knew I did not want to return to IT, but I knew that without a business school springboard, a career change into finance was a longshot. I told myself if the MBA plan fell through, I would move to New York anyway, with two suitcases, a couple hundred bucks in my pocket, and a can-do attitude. Was I kidding myself? Who knows. A desperate man conceives of desperate scenarios.
I'll never know if I would've had the guts. Plan A pulled through, I got into NYU, and for the past few weeks before I left for New York, I made my pool scenario a beautiful reality.
Sun, 16 Aug 2009
Getting hit with a nauseating bout of homesickness. Today was day 1 of the official move. It is midnight here in New York, and I am in my empty, unfurnished apartment, lying against my luggage on top of my sleeping bag. A single floor lamp illuminates this lonely hole.
My final day in L.A. was a stressful one. I bickered with an 11th hour bidder of my car, and I bickered with my dad about bickering with that bidder. In the end, there was no deal, and I sold my car to a local dealership, but the process took its toll. I fear I unfairly took some of it out on my dad. It wasn't what I imagined my last day to be. By the time I got to the airport, it still didn't feel real. I was just boarding another flight out to somewhere for the umpteenth time at Burbank Airport, and soon I'll be home again.
But I feel it now.
I want to be home again. I want to live in my condo again, sleep on my bed again, swim with my buddies again. I want to have dinner with my friends and family again, be a moment's notice away from hanging out with whomever again. I want the security of knowing where everything is again, of knowing what my near future will entail again.
I almost wish that I didn't just sacrifice everything I've accumulated and struck out on this, thus far on day one, lonely journey. Almost.
Soon, I will remind myself why I am doing this. But for now, I just want to be home, and I want to feel that way for a little while longer.
I will be focused and relentless. I will endure through pain and fatigue. I will achieve my dreams without qualification.
I will sit in front of every class. I will take the initiative on activities. I will be humble and acknowledge what I do not know. I will not let what others think of me alter my path.
I will make a clean break with my past habits. I will stay in control. I will not be sidetracked by pettiness, from myself or from others. I will not be afraid to ask questions. I will not be afraid to try and fail.
***
Back in April when my business school future was in doubt, I had an enduring scenario that stuck in my head. I'm at my pool, alone, standing over the deep end. It is a marvelous morning with clear blue skies and wispy white clouds. I dive into the emerald waters, and I swim back and forth, without a care in the world, because I know later in the Fall, I will move to New York to start a new career. And I think to myself, how wonderful everything is at this exact moment, where I am suspended, at least for a few hours, in between chapters of my life.
I clung to that image like a ship clinging to the rotating beam from a lighthouse during a storm. You have to understand I was an emotional tempest back then. I was on the ropes with my job, and I did not know what my future held. I knew I did not want to return to IT, but I knew that without a business school springboard, a career change into finance was a longshot. I told myself if the MBA plan fell through, I would move to New York anyway, with two suitcases, a couple hundred bucks in my pocket, and a can-do attitude. Was I kidding myself? Who knows. A desperate man conceives of desperate scenarios.
I'll never know if I would've had the guts. Plan A pulled through, I got into NYU, and for the past few weeks before I left for New York, I made my pool scenario a beautiful reality.
***
Sun, 16 Aug 2009
Getting hit with a nauseating bout of homesickness. Today was day 1 of the official move. It is midnight here in New York, and I am in my empty, unfurnished apartment, lying against my luggage on top of my sleeping bag. A single floor lamp illuminates this lonely hole.
My final day in L.A. was a stressful one. I bickered with an 11th hour bidder of my car, and I bickered with my dad about bickering with that bidder. In the end, there was no deal, and I sold my car to a local dealership, but the process took its toll. I fear I unfairly took some of it out on my dad. It wasn't what I imagined my last day to be. By the time I got to the airport, it still didn't feel real. I was just boarding another flight out to somewhere for the umpteenth time at Burbank Airport, and soon I'll be home again.
But I feel it now.
I want to be home again. I want to live in my condo again, sleep on my bed again, swim with my buddies again. I want to have dinner with my friends and family again, be a moment's notice away from hanging out with whomever again. I want the security of knowing where everything is again, of knowing what my near future will entail again.
I almost wish that I didn't just sacrifice everything I've accumulated and struck out on this, thus far on day one, lonely journey. Almost.
Soon, I will remind myself why I am doing this. But for now, I just want to be home, and I want to feel that way for a little while longer.
***
I will be focused and relentless. I will endure through pain and fatigue. I will achieve my dreams without qualification.
I will sit in front of every class. I will take the initiative on activities. I will be humble and acknowledge what I do not know. I will not let what others think of me alter my path.
I will make a clean break with my past habits. I will stay in control. I will not be sidetracked by pettiness, from myself or from others. I will not be afraid to ask questions. I will not be afraid to try and fail.
