5 Inch Heels

I'm inspired by the similar situation and imagery of one of my good college friends, in her post of aubergine. (which, when I looked it up in the dictionary, is a dark purplish color such as the color of eggplant, or can be used as jargon to refer to the presence of a computer near computerphobic people. I learn something new every day.)

Anyways.

5 inch heels require that you ignore reality. It's not about the cobble stones or the carpet that you're walking on. It's about the stride, the balance, and really- the sensitivity of your feet. All of which is going on in your brain, within yourself. To wear these pillars of self confidence, you have to be confident in yourself. You know you can rock these heels, and you're out, not to show the world that you can rock these shoes, but to walk on the clouds.

(My favorite shoes- Hide N Seek by Chinese Laundry)

Your stride grows longer at a walk, shorter at a run, feeling with every movement the delicate balance of heel to toes, ankle to body, body to neck, neck to the top of your head. You are God's marionette, on a string suspended from the heavens themselves. You are aware, while you wear these shoes, of the muscles and ligaments suspending you in your perpetual controlled fall towards your destination.

With every meter of progress, you allow yourself to experience the now as you've never felt it before. Each second, the nerves of your foot communicate with you to explain the tilt of the earth, the feeling of the air around you, the pebbles that you would (in your tennis shoes) pass not a second thought on. Crushed, wet grass becomes exquisite in a way that you've never experienced before. Smooth linoleum announces your presence from miles away.

So when we wobble, we're really just reaffirming our self exploration on whatever journey we've begun. The ankle slides mildly from side to side, and our eyes grow wide as we re-realize exactly where we are, and how far we have yet to go....but it's a good thing. Because then, at that moment of discord, we recollect ourselves and start again, head up and facing everything coming our way, ankles straight, calves strong, bodies beautiful, minds aware, totally aware, of just how far we've come.

So, yes. things are new. We're in new cities, doing new things with new people. But I'm not afraid, because I have my 5 inch heels telling me that just now, in this moment, we're doing alright, that we've come so very far and we have a long ways to go, too- but we're ok and just taking it one lacy, strappy, spindle thin, satiny, glorious step at a time.

Mental Load

"...New Student Orientation...will be a healthy balance of practical and fun."

-Office of Student Services 

I think anticipation really is killing me.
When I made it into med school, I screamed. Bubbling over with enthusiasm, I couldn't wait to go to class and learn what it is to be a healthy human being. The knowledge of going somewhere else floated me through the rest of senior year, and reassured my otherwise planless existence.
Now, basically three months from the beginning of summer, I'm terrified of everything.
I already knew I was going to be young for this school. Now I'm pretty certain that I'm the youngest. All of my fellow entering classmates will, on average, be about 9 years older than I and also hold at least one more advanced degree, if not several more advanced degrees.  It also sounds like many won't have to work their way through school, are generally in better fitness than I am, and have more general skills than I do. Also, they can afford to live closer to the school than I can.
To top it off, all students are expected to be available for classes Monday through Friday from 7am to 5pm or 7pm. Oh, goodness. What have I gotten myself into? Can I even survive it?
Orientation starts on September 7th, and I wish it was here already. I am tired of tormenting myself with all of these maybes and mightbes and pleasedeargodnobes. I know I can do this, I just need to stop thinking about it so much.

Augh.