Foreflight

"Liberte" by Sarah Casewit Photography: http://www.sarahcasewit.com/

Oh, the "gift" that is foresight. What exactly is gifted about it? I have this notorious "gift" and can tell you that I do not like it at all. For all my future-tripping I rarely seem to get the scene entirely correct and spend so much time investigating outcomes that I miss life completely.

For instance, when I prepared for the symposium I had a certain image in my mind of the course it would take. I was envisioning myself speaking in front of a crowd (is it just me, or does "symposium" sound a little like "podium?"), delivering my speech to people who would compare it to the other projects and judge it therein. I envisioned lots of students in suits and professionals with clipboards. I didn't even consider that the symposium would look any different, fooled by foresight.

I quickly realized that the podium and crowd I had foreseen was actually four separate conference rooms, where you were lucky if you had an audience of the students who presented before and after you and whatever guest you had personally invited. Where were the judges? Where was the crowd? Who would even know what I did?! I had invited my contact at the school where I based on my project, as well as it's Dean; at the last minute they informed me that they would be unable to attend (but were sure to give me some corrections to my paper- three months too late). Embittered but undeterred, I invited the Tonelli clan, who showed in full force. When I finally presented the room had 11 witnesses: a moderator, four students, the professor who oversaw my project, and five of my family members. Needless to say, it was much less nerve-racking than I expected!

Since I had foreseen that we would spend most of the time in an auditorium watching other speakers, I was unprepared for the free time we actually had. Free, unfilled time. Correction: not unfilled, but brimming with anxiety. I struggled to find a way to entertain my family, feeling so guilty for having them come to this "presentation" that was more like a show-and-tell. The "luncheon" was sub sandwiches, for heaven's sake!

So I sat through it. As we wandered aimlessly through the campus I checked in with myself. Emily, darling, how are you feeling? I'm feeling like this is a total debacle, you fool! Emily, that is a thought. How are you feeling? I guess I'm feeling dejected, because I wanted this to be a big hoopla, the final fireworks to my undergraduate career, and it makes me embarrassed. That's more like it. Can you talk to me about why the thoughts along with these feelings are silly? Just look at my family. They're totally enjoying themselves just sunning on campus, meeting some old friends, and spending time with me. And I still did my presentation, didn't I? The moderator even asked if I would be willing to speak at another event. And my professor said I was one of his top five students- ever. That's a firework, isn't it? And and and, I haven't even obsessed about what I ate!

I laid back in the grass in my perfect dress and chatted with my family. True, I love the moment to my thoughts sometimes; I think I asked my Aunt three times whether she drank Pepsi or Coke. But then lunch came, and then we talked to my professor, and then I approached an old friend, and then I walked to my car. The warm sun dried my lips until they curved into a smile. Slowly, giggles started to trickle across my tongue until they became chuckles that tumbled out of my mouth. I felt great! Yes, I had to practice every in-the-moment mindfulness activity I could muster. Yes, I felt a roller-coaster of emotions. But I was proud! I was done!

I checked-in one last time. How was my spirit? After all, I had just experienced short-term, quantitative success. Hadn't I determined that that meant I would be disconnected from myself?

My eyes were blue/green. The world smelled like wet grass. My feet bounced to avoid the cracks in the cement. My skin was warmed by the sun. I was walking, my body propelling me with a grace all my own. It was following my heart, whose whispered directions commanded in my mind. My spirit was there.

The last chuckle out of my mouth framed this word: LIVING!