I think -- I think this is exciting. Can I let myself get excited now? Is it okay?
I received an email acceptance to the University of Wisconsin-Madison yesterday afternoon, and I have to admit, the statements above simulate my initial response pretty well.
After months of waiting and trying to keep my expectations low in light of repeated disappointments, I faced the good news without the ability to celebrate. Where the Jen whom I imagined might have danced around the house in giddy exuberance, the real Jen stared at the computer screen and started calculating pros and cons, all the while trying to muster an appropriate level of enthusiasm with which to share the news.
(Based on my repeated failure to hone a believable poker face, I doubt it was very convincing.)
It was in this moment when I remembered the downside of being a reserved, careful person, someone who is terrified of being hurt or vulnerable, who attempts to monitor and regulate all expressions of emotion. Not only emotions perceived as negative -- anger, fear, sadness -- but also positive emotions like happiness, excitement, and delight are difficult to express freely. I can just about number and name the instances when I've felt and expressed strong emotion of either type in the last few years.
However, there are also moments that fall outside the grid. The pure, spontaneous, unadulterated joy of dancing at high speed, running barefoot in the grass, or watching the stars emerge at night while singing at the top of my lungs: these things push back against a sense of control or reserve. In those moments, it is difficult to keep away the kind of smile that might be called more accurately a silly grin. If only I could channel that feeling of freedom into the opportunities and milestones that punctuate my daily life.
But maybe it is not impossible. By the end of the day yesterday, I was able to borrow some genuine enthusiasm from the people around me. Their excitement gave me permission to feel the same way. I could set aside, for a little while, the weight of the decision I now have to make. I could celebrate an accomplishment without tracking out its long-term implications. It felt pretty good.
Sometimes, holding emotions in reserve serves me well; sometimes, not at all. The trick, I guess, is learning how to distinguish between the two.
I received an email acceptance to the University of Wisconsin-Madison yesterday afternoon, and I have to admit, the statements above simulate my initial response pretty well.
After months of waiting and trying to keep my expectations low in light of repeated disappointments, I faced the good news without the ability to celebrate. Where the Jen whom I imagined might have danced around the house in giddy exuberance, the real Jen stared at the computer screen and started calculating pros and cons, all the while trying to muster an appropriate level of enthusiasm with which to share the news.
(Based on my repeated failure to hone a believable poker face, I doubt it was very convincing.)
It was in this moment when I remembered the downside of being a reserved, careful person, someone who is terrified of being hurt or vulnerable, who attempts to monitor and regulate all expressions of emotion. Not only emotions perceived as negative -- anger, fear, sadness -- but also positive emotions like happiness, excitement, and delight are difficult to express freely. I can just about number and name the instances when I've felt and expressed strong emotion of either type in the last few years.
However, there are also moments that fall outside the grid. The pure, spontaneous, unadulterated joy of dancing at high speed, running barefoot in the grass, or watching the stars emerge at night while singing at the top of my lungs: these things push back against a sense of control or reserve. In those moments, it is difficult to keep away the kind of smile that might be called more accurately a silly grin. If only I could channel that feeling of freedom into the opportunities and milestones that punctuate my daily life.
But maybe it is not impossible. By the end of the day yesterday, I was able to borrow some genuine enthusiasm from the people around me. Their excitement gave me permission to feel the same way. I could set aside, for a little while, the weight of the decision I now have to make. I could celebrate an accomplishment without tracking out its long-term implications. It felt pretty good.
Sometimes, holding emotions in reserve serves me well; sometimes, not at all. The trick, I guess, is learning how to distinguish between the two.
:)! It'll be much easier to visit you next year!
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