Back to reality..
It seems at York we have a longer Christmas 'holiday' than perhaps the 'norm'. It is the last day of January and I only just had my very first lecture back of the year today. It's odd.. It doesn't feel like the usual 'back to school' sentiment. The last deadlines are only in the very very distant past and this semester is the final one of my degree. It's a new feeling and I am acutely aware that time passes by quicker than ever before. I remember on New Years Eve as Mark and I stood at the Minster watching the clock count down to midnight and I turned to Mark to say 'Look at the clock... Look at how fast time is moving'. And it does, sometimes as we simply stand by and watch. It is moving right now; seconds and minutes and hours that we will never have again.
Perhaps when we were younger, time is just another 'thing'.. dinner time, home time, bed time, and so on.. Just a list of times that provide our young lives with rules and routines and nothing more than simply a waking or sleeping hour. In fact, most children seem to wish time away as they forever count down to birthdays or Christmas or school holidays, or 3.30pm when the school bell rings and they go home. However, I think something shifts as we develop an awareness that time is a precious, precious gift. Suddenly we are chasing after time, running late, struggling to make deadlines, cannot seem to get enough sleep, wishing for just that five more minutes extra in a warm bed in the mornings.. Once more, the paradoxical nature of the irony: Of only appreciating the value of something when our minds are no longer unsuspecting and carefree enough to live under the illusion that we will remain that way forever.
So, here I am; Final semester, final year, final final final. How that word is so conclusive. But, life is of course what we choose it to be. And I have chosen for the next four months to be full of life, magnificent things, and lovely people. There is a dissertation to write, exams to take, assignments to write, lectures to attend, shoots to do, new people to meet, old friends to love, new relationships to learn about, places to visit, passports to be used, birthdays to celebrate, much of life to experience.. the list continues forever and a day.
A return to reality is an unfamiliar concept in itself. More irony.. Surely 'back to reality' implies back to a place of familiarity. Yes, to an extent. This is a familiar life, but it is certainly a life of constant change whereby in the space of one week I will be in Morocco, I will be eating lunch with friends, watching films with a wonderful man, attending university, modelling in studios and on cold English beaches, travelling across the country, writing personal statements, and planning the events of the future. I have grown to like this though.. As ever, a life of change is a sure way to keep the feet on the ground, the mind open, and to stop one from ever falling too deep.