Perfect Anticipation

This week I experienced something like bliss. I, for a moment, had everything I wanted. To me it is not the actual having, but the knowledge that it will be had, the attaining that matters. There is joy in the destination, but the journey is much longer and therefore gives the opportunity for even more joy. I have been granted the opportunity to study with the greatest minds in my field, on my way to gaining the career I have always wanted, surrounded by friends, loved, in the city I adore. I may not yet own my own apartment, or make the kind of money I want, or have the job I am after, but it's coming. It is all at my fingertips. Walking through the Village, feeling the warm breeze and perfect 75 degree weather that is neither hot nor cold, I had everything I ever wanted. I had the concrete version of hope: anticipation.

I left work early to go listen to a panel discussion on food in the context of memoirs. Entering the vast Bobst Library at NYU, I was overwhelmed by the grandeur of it all. The atrium is open, pulling your eye up the seemingly endless floors of books. There was a lounge area to my right, all wood paneling and portraits. There was so much history, so much greatness, I was in awe. As the speakers were introduced, my sense of wonder was heightened further. Before me were men and women who knew James Beard and Julia Child, the first panelist was the great-nephew of MFK Fisher! These people are my superstars, my heroes, the people I long to know. I want to collect them like porcelain figures, lining them up in pretty display case in my home. I want to keep them all and surround myself with them and bask in their stories and ideas. This is what I get to do! I have the unimaginable honor of working with these people, learning from them and perhaps one day teaching them something too. I want to be one of them, in the company of these giants.

It is not helpless longing, it is a reality. I have gotten something that I wanted so deeply, transforming a fantasy into a reality. It is no wonder than that walking out of the building, into that perfect spring air, that I felt so completely, peacefully happy.

The present and future are inextricably linked for me. I used to live in the past or the future, in a constant state of sentiment or dream. This can lead you down a very dark path. The past is untouchable and the future, especially if you have a dark vision of it, uncertain and cold. The place I now reside is solidly in the present, with the future as my horizon. It is always moving back as I move toward it, but knowing it is there, seeing it everyday more clearly as I near, that propels me forward.

In Colorado you can always tell West by the towering mountains, seeing them orients people. On a cloudy day, if they were to be masked, one would suddenly feel a bit lost. How could you feel anything but pleasure watching the beautiful, towering peaks in the distance? They are there, they are solid, they are waiting for your arrival. This is how I see my future and my dreams. I do not reside there, but they decorate my landscape, orient me and fill me with a glowing warmth.

My dreams do not make my present look inadequate, they make it breathtakingly beautiful. I can only hope the view from the top can compare.

Coming Home to N Y U!

I scheduled a meeting with my advisor today, and in typical Felicia fashion, I ended-up getting lost and arriving late and frazzled. I went to 35 E 4th Street, which was an abandoned building. I circled said building twice before deciding it was the right address, but clearly the wrong place. I did not bring the phone number, because I am a fool, so I wandered and cursed and kept calling 411 until I finally got a hold of a woman who informed me the office was 35 W 4th Street. As I roamed around I kept telling myself “you are the customer, you are the customer”, but it didn’t matter, I still felt like a douche!

Dr. Ray had taken his next appointment early, so I sat down to wait for her time slot. I happily read a pamphlet about the NYU Library food collection, a welcome distraction from my shoddy nerves. After reading it twice, I slipped it into my purse and started flipping through a culinary trade magazine. The receptionist called me back and sent me into his office. He was a handsome Indian man, with whom I was already dually impressed with after reading his bio online. It is rare that smart men I am attracted to on paper actually turn out to be so good looking. I guess today was just one of those days.

I was completely unprepared for the meeting, forgetting the forms containing my student number in my office (and the aforementioned phone number!). He was gracious and said he would see if he could locate my file.

When he left the room, I began running my eyes across the stacks of books and the blasted pictures of children, which I am sure are his (how could this man be single?), but the books are what really caught my eye. Sociology, history, cookbooks, novels, for some reason they made me so quietly ecstatic, so deeply happy I wanted to cry. I suppose it is like seeing home for the first time, you spend so much time imagining it that when it appears in front of you it doesn’t seem possible. My vision of “home” is still a blurred watercolor, but something about those books, all the adventures they represent, they felt like my first glimpse.

My file had not yet arrived from admissions, (I did just get in on Friday!) but he said we could do a broad advisement now anyways. That would allow him to clear my account for registration. I already knew exactly what I was planning on taking, but I coyly said, “Oh, I have a few ideas”. (I didn’t want him to feel like his job wasn’t useful, or that his advising skills were not appreciated).

I explained my choices and he laughed, “You certainly are easy to advise! I suppose that must come from your prior training”. I replied, “I think it comes from all the waiting!” He commented on how difficult it was to get in this semester. He printed me some information on how to register once my account cleared and gave me his business card. He told me that I could write him anytime if I needed help. He would even walk me through the online registration if I needed him to. He then mentioned for the second time how difficult it was to get in to this program this semester and how proud I should be; I just reiterated how excited I was. We said goodbye and I floated out to the elevator and back down to 4th Street.

Walking back toward the VA, I again felt the seemingly permanent smile playing across my face and felt the tears begging to come out of my eyes. This flux of emotion is new and familiar to me, I can’t quite place it.

Back in the good ol’ “mental” hospital, I decided to e-mail Dr. Ray my student number, and let him know what a pleasure it was to meet him. He promptly replied, saying the number would help and that it was his pleasure meeting me today and he looks forward to working with me. That e-mail was followed by a CC to his assistant, asking her to clear my account. I am in Love!

Now it is time to get back to the present, back to discharge rounds tempered with dreams of things yet to come! There has been a shift though, rather than living with possibilities alone, hope is accompanied by anticipation. I got into NYU!!!

Everyone keeps telling me my life is about to change, I have no doubt. The future is bright and therefore backlight, I have no idea what is to come, but I feel like it is going to be beautiful.

Holding Pattern

I'm ready, poised for action, strong and determined! But like a racehorse with his mussel to the gate, all I am really doing at this moment is waiting. It is not idle or relaxed waiting, my heart is pumping and adrenaline courses through my veins. The difference between me and that horse is that he knows what he is bracing for, I do not.

All I know is that something big is coming, my life is changing before my eyes and the horizon is blocked out by a dust storm, kicked up by the pounding hooves of all that is approaching me.

I am not idle, I am filling my nights with EWI events and drinks with friends and spending my weekend days doing research and writing. Working, working, working away at my new post and old haunt through the week. But my appetite is gone, my kitchen is growing cold from lack of use, I wake early and feel a constant state of restlessness.

What is it that my body knows that I am of yet still unaware? As usual, only tomorrow holds the answer. For now I will keep my eyes on the horizon and my heart in the present and thank God for both.