After having thrown my little ignorant self so passionately into searching for information on my latest academic obsession I always felt a sort of ownership of the subject, even after moving on to something new. So, even though years had passed, when the phoenix gained notoriety from its presence in the wildly-popular Harry Potter books I felt a little pang, as if my secret, meaningful symbol was somehow diminished by being in the public eye.
Since reading those books though I really haven't given the phoenix much thought at all. But recently as I've pondered everything that has happened over the past few months, weeks, and days, the symbol of my childhood obsession has come powerfully, and I think, appropriately back into my mind.
This fall was entirely consumed by my application process, which nearly destroyed me. I'm really not kidding. Working full time and trying to complete over 80 essay questions was much more difficult than I thought it would be, and as a result I ended up having to settle for less than perfect quality several times just to get the applications out of my hands. To be fair though, while the process was painful, it was also enlightening, and allowed me to clarify my intentions, goals and desires to myself as well as to prospective programs. But, by the time I had turned in the last one I had written over fifty-five single-spaced pages of essays and was completely burned out.
The week after I finished I began the next stage of the game: interviews (which I discovered are MUCH more fun than applications). I also indulged myself by reading six books that first week, and a steady helping since then. I then jumped on a plane to travel home for my little sister's wedding to her childhood friend. Then helped my mom throw a whirlwind Christmas. Then traveled to Tennessee where my sister's in-laws (who happen to be really good family friends) were throwing an open house. Then drove back to Virginia to get the newlyweds packed up and settled in their house before my sister's new husband is deployed to Iraq next week.
So, despite all of the marvelous family time I still feel as though I haven't quite recouped from all the craziness that has been my life recently. Today is my birthday, and in addition to being close to the celebration of Christ's birth, and the new year, it's also a day when I remember my grandpa, who I used to share a birthday celebration with and who was the model of the kind of human being and scientist I want to be. So naturally, I've been reflecting on where my life is heading, how my choices are affecting that heading, and what I need to do differently to make sure I stay on course.
Sometimes I get discouraged by how often it seems like I need to reevaluate my priorities, and essentially straighten myself out. But I'm beginning to realize this self-renewal is not such a bad thing. Enter the phoenix. As the beautiful bird nears the end of its life it builds a nest which it then ignites. The nest and bird are burned until only ashes remain. A new phoenix then rises from the ashes of its old self and begins life anew. In some versions, the new bird even gathers and encases the ashes of its old life in an egg, which it brings to the heavens as an offering to the gods before returning to earth. So, instead of limping along trying to pick up pieces of my life, I think I need to make the choice to start afresh, wipe my slate clean, and like a phoenix rising from the ashes, offer those parts of me that I've burned to the heavens and begin again, a new creature. I am grateful that the gift of the atonement, which we celebrate this season, provides me with the opportunities for renewal that I've needed and will continue to need throughout my life.
