Age of Anxiety

Anxiety has reared its ugly head.  Even as I write this sentence, I think about a different way to write about anxiety.  What if anxiety isn't ugly?  What if anxiety brews a pot of tea and keeps watch and alerts us to dangers we aren't seeing?

And I have known anxiety would be back.  On Sunday, Feb. 28, I wrote this e-mail to a friend:

"I feel like I'm in this strange head space that my head doesn't usually occupy. There are lots of unknowns and several possible timelines, and I am going with the flow, trusting in God. I am usually the person with a plan A, B, and C, a back up plan for each, and a remote back up plan in case of utter disaster. But with this heading to seminary, I'm in a strange laid back place in terms of the time line and the process--and I must say, I like it very much.

That's not to say that I'm not being proactive. It is a process that requires much--which is a bit astonishing to me. But I'm not stressed, the way I might usually be, or overwhelmed. I'm just completing tasks, step by step, trusting in the overall vision. It's that Ignatian concept (maybe it is? it's still fairly new to me) of consolation, not desolation, I think."

I knew at the time that I wrote it that those words would come back to haunt me.  By Monday morning, I woke up feeling awash in anxiety about a variety of outcomes.  Who did I think I was applying to seminary and candidacy?  Surely I'm on a road to bankruptcy.  I will spend my retirement years living in a van, if I'm lucky enough to have a van.  And yes, I did spend part of Sunday watching parts of Nomadland, feeling like I was seeing both a cautionary and aspirational tale.

It wasn't too long before the spiral of too old/too late/too unworthy started to drag me down.  I thought about all the people who have made an effort for me--written me letters and done interviewing and analyzing--now I'll let all those people down when I finally realize that seminary is an impossible dream.

But what if I don't realize it in time?  And then there's the kind of anxiety that wonders if I can still write grad level papers.  But truth be told, I don't worry that I can't write the papers, so much as I fret about the time management aspect of it all.  And there's the distance part of it, on and on my tortured brain goes.

My brain woke up in this anxiety soaked state on both Monday and Tuesday.  I spent part of each of those mornings working on calming myself down--and realizing that part of my anxiety is rooted in the changes coming at work, now that it looks like the changes are finally coming.  The sale of my school to the school in Brooklyn is scheduled for March 24, and this time, it looks like it will actually happen.  

Oh, and we have an accreditation visit this week--and it's virtual, a type of visit I've never experienced before.  We are as prepared as we know how to be, and yet, there will always be anxiety with an accreditation visit.

So, it's no wonder that my anxiety comes to visit here and there.  Let me visualize my anxiety as the kind friend who has a different set of priorities than I do, but someone with my interests at heart.  Let me continue to remember not to undo decisions made in a time of consolation.