Oak Tree 

It has been well over a month since I last posted something on the blog here, but I figure now is as a good time as any to let everyone know that I haven't stopped writing or thinking about writing a little something here. It has been somewhat difficult to be a "strong ship" and ride out some of the emotional waves I've been sailing on, but the good news is that I haven't capsized. Besides, a sea without waves is rather boring. Related to the emotional stuff, school is pretty much a wreck right now, and I am not sure if I can salvage a degree out of the whole fiasco or not. But I sure am going to spend the next couple of weeks trying my best to do just that--finish. I am still reading some books in my incomplete subjects, and I am actually finding the material interesting and thought provoking. The reality of losing some of the things I have worked for is sinking in to such a deep level that it makes me realize how some of the painful sacrafices will be lose some of their meaning if I don't have something to show for them at the end of it all.

I remember when, while on a field trip for a college biology, the instructor pointed out a little oak tree that had already begun to have bulbous and cancerous growths sprouting on its limbs. The tree was in a picturesque field of tall grass tucked on top of a high hill with large airy veiws of the valleys and farms spread out below. I think of that mental image, and sometimes, I feel like the tree. While I know I have a lot of lovely resources that should nourish my sense of self and accomplishment, there is some internal thing, like the oak cancer (something wholly my own, internal) sapping me from achieving the potential growth I could acheive without it.

25 December 2005