Monday, September 18, 2006
Leaving on a Jet Plane
So the countdown is on. I'm not very good at math, as most of y'all know, so I'm not going to deal with the countdown. Let's just say that in less than 48 hours, I'll be in Limerick. Everything is all packed. I'm ready to go. Sort of. I don't really know how to explain it. I am so very excited to be going. I still cannot believe it is all happening. This sounds quite a bit like my old post, but trust me. These sorts of thoughts, questions about doing the right thing or not, have started surfacing the more undeniable this trip has become. Obviously, I know it is the right thing for me to go. But what has really gripped me lately is how much easier it is to be excited for something when it is not much more than a notion, some speck on the horizon. But, when that something is within 15 hours of happening, it is, suddenly, much more difficult to be so sure of the decision.
Tonight reminds me of two other times in my life. The first seems such a long time ago. The night before I left Nathan Adams Elementary, just down the street, for K.B. Polk Vangard I stayed up late into the night crying with my mom. I knew I needed to go to Polk. It was the program that I had wanted to be in; it was the program that John and Kelly were in. But Nathan Adams was pretty much all that I knew. The next morning, it was like the previous few hours had never happened. Polk was such an exact fit that I am amazed I ever had second thoughts. Needless to say, I have never looked back at that decision with any regret. If I had not gone to Polk, there are too many possibilities for the outcome, none of which seem as wonderful as the present. Secondly, this moment seems so similar to the first trip I made to Omaha as a Creighton student. I remember packing the van, leaving Dallas, hitting Denton (which is a city for y'all who don't know) and all the while being hunkey dorey. All systems go, right? Well that all changed when I hit the Red River and crossed over into Oklahoma. At that instant, I finalyl understood that I was truly leaving home. For some reason, there are many moments when the reality of a situation seems completely and utterly deniable. Then that all comes crashing down and one must deal with the stark reality of what is. I don't want that to sound as negative as it does. But for almost a year, I have known that I was going to be abroad for this semester, granted a year ago I still thought I'd be studying in Krakow, but now that it is merely hours away, all of a sudden I am quaking in my boots. I know, however, it's just a mixture of anticipation, excitement, nervousness and just about every other emotion. I know I just need to get onto the plane, well more likely, get off the plane in Limerick and I won't look back. I'll hit the ground running and quickly forget the sense of fear that is in my heart tonight.
But to lighten things up, Sara asked me tonight if my stomache was all tied in knots, I responded, "It's simply too full of Mexican food to be tied in anything." Mmmmm.
Well I guess it is that time, time to "live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life," as Stephen Dedalus said in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.
Tonight reminds me of two other times in my life. The first seems such a long time ago. The night before I left Nathan Adams Elementary, just down the street, for K.B. Polk Vangard I stayed up late into the night crying with my mom. I knew I needed to go to Polk. It was the program that I had wanted to be in; it was the program that John and Kelly were in. But Nathan Adams was pretty much all that I knew. The next morning, it was like the previous few hours had never happened. Polk was such an exact fit that I am amazed I ever had second thoughts. Needless to say, I have never looked back at that decision with any regret. If I had not gone to Polk, there are too many possibilities for the outcome, none of which seem as wonderful as the present. Secondly, this moment seems so similar to the first trip I made to Omaha as a Creighton student. I remember packing the van, leaving Dallas, hitting Denton (which is a city for y'all who don't know) and all the while being hunkey dorey. All systems go, right? Well that all changed when I hit the Red River and crossed over into Oklahoma. At that instant, I finalyl understood that I was truly leaving home. For some reason, there are many moments when the reality of a situation seems completely and utterly deniable. Then that all comes crashing down and one must deal with the stark reality of what is. I don't want that to sound as negative as it does. But for almost a year, I have known that I was going to be abroad for this semester, granted a year ago I still thought I'd be studying in Krakow, but now that it is merely hours away, all of a sudden I am quaking in my boots. I know, however, it's just a mixture of anticipation, excitement, nervousness and just about every other emotion. I know I just need to get onto the plane, well more likely, get off the plane in Limerick and I won't look back. I'll hit the ground running and quickly forget the sense of fear that is in my heart tonight.
But to lighten things up, Sara asked me tonight if my stomache was all tied in knots, I responded, "It's simply too full of Mexican food to be tied in anything." Mmmmm.
Well I guess it is that time, time to "live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life," as Stephen Dedalus said in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.
# posted by Matt Reznicek @ 8:56 PM 
