The last few weeks has been fraught with frenetic activity: getting a vehicle, looking for an apartment out of province, applying for a criminal background check (a requirement of my practicum site), getting fingerprinted, viewing an apartment, paying a damage deposit on it, and planning to pick up the key in a couple of weeks. There are less than three months until I start my practicum placement, and it seems that there are periods of time like the one I have described above, and then there are those times when it seems like time seems to stand still, it is moving so slowly.
Meanwhile, I get requests for information that I cannot yet give. What are my hours going to be at work when I start this thing? Well, I am not sure, because I don’t know my hours at the practicum site. So I wrote an email to my practicum supervisor and am awaiting her reply to see if we can’t hammer out my hours. Part of me isn’t even sure that this internship is real – in those moments of self-doubt, I wonder if I dreamed the whole thing or if things (for some reason) might not work out. The moments are fleeting but … no less distressing for being brief.
In the dark, both literally and figuratively, is a hard place to be. I don’t like not knowing what to expect; it is quite stressful for me. And when I don’t know what is ahead, I tend to become preoccupied, which wakes me in the wee hours of the morning with obscure, random thoughts. The other morning, I woke up at 5:00 a.m. thinking, “Where am I going to put my garbage cans in the apartment?” Sighhhh.
So the only thing I can think to do, where the dark of uncertainty encroaches in, is to light a candle. Remember that the time might seem long, but it truly won’t be long until I am in the midst of the light of day and doing what I have been training to do for years. Really.
Things will fall into place. The night will end. The day will come. And in the meantime, I keep my candle lit… the candle of hope, the candle of perseverance, the candle of assurance that I didn’t dream this, that this is really happening, that I really will be able to do my practicum.
And with the candle lit, I can concentrate on the little details I need to take care of: homework, paperwork, and the family activities and (self-imposed or not) obligations that make life interesting, if not frantic. I can (try to) sleep. I can prioritize. I can breathe. I can survive. And when the time comes, I can shine.
Just like my candle, I can make a difference to someone else’s darkness.