NC escape

I know it's been several weeks since my last entry--I've been at different times pretty sick, pretty busy, or pretty lazy. I've been doing a lot of cooking, a bit of visiting, and more staying up playing video games with Bob than I ever thought I was capable of. But tonight, it's time for a little bit of writing.

The internship that I have been looking forward to for six months now has finally begun. I started training this past Monday in Greensboro, North Carolina. Our days have been so full of learning and presentations and case studies that I have been mentally exhausted at the close of each day--once all the computers have been closed down, all the dinner courses finished and all the drink glasses drained, all the socializing wound down and all the people finally turning in for the night, I have been so taxed (excuse the pun) that the best I can do is to flop down on my queen-size bed and let my brain swim for just a few minutes. Not that I'm saying at all that I have not liked it--quite the contrary, I have enjoyed nearly every moment--but it's a different sort of exertion than I'm accustomed to. It's wonderful to see the concepts I've studied and memorized and been examined on over the past two years finally being put to practical use right in front of me, like someone opening up my rusty mind and pulling out tools I forgot I had amassed, and saying, "See this? Let's lube it up, you're going to need it."

But most importantly, I had a moment yesterday when I knew, I knew, that I would not lose sight of who I am (or, more appropriately, who my God is and what He makes me to be in Him), as I have, to some extent, feared would happen. Staying rooted to my values--not letting anyone tell me that I must work as hard as I can and become a millionaire in my old age, when I know that I should be storing up my treasures elsewhere--not becoming self-focused when I have been commanded to love God first and my neighbors second, and to trust that He will always be faithful to meet all my needs--these are the things that I have to hold on to. There's nothing inherently wrong with the accounting profession; the problem is with the mindset that so many people in this profession have adopted, a set of values that could easily seduce someone away from the more rewarding and important things. Jesus promised, "I will never leave you nor forsake you." I believe that with all my heart.

I love the other interns from my office. They're going to be such a fun crowd, and I'm really looking forward to the time we'll spend together over the summer. In fact, there have only been a couple of down sides to the whole week. The first: I miss Bob. Since we got married, we've only ever spent one night apart at once. But he dropped me off at 9:00 on Monday morning, and will pick me up around 8:00 tomorrow night. That's five days, four nights. No Bob. We've talked on the phone each day, but that's a poor substitute. He hates talking on the phone, and so I always feel kind of estranged from him when he's on the line. Still, I look forward to those conversations with him. During the day, it makes me happy just to think about him and pray for him, and know that he misses me. The second problem this week has been the food. You know, I'm used to eating very low-fat, vegetarian-friendly meals. I'm used to eating a big breakfast and a small dinner. Don't misunderstand me--the quality of the food the resort has served this week has just been wonderful. Most people would love to spend a week eating the things they have set in front of. But picky me, I have had a hard time getting the foods I know I need to keep my body from going south very quickly. It's difficult for me to start my day with nothing but a plate of fruit and six ounces of yogurt. But of course, I won't eat the bacon and sausage, nor do I need the muffins and pastries. I cannot wait to have a simple bowl of Kashi with skim milk (or maybe soy milk?). Actually, the vegetarian thing has been very easy to work around--until today. At dinner tonight, for the main course, they set a plate of steak and grilled chicken down in front of me, alongside a tower of mashed potatoes (which I don't eat) and a stalk of broccoli. I felt terrible about asking them to bring me a vegetarian meal. I should have told someone earlier in the week that I was vegetarian, and the entire situation would have been avoided. But when I saw that every meal offered plenty of vegetarian-friendly options, I decided not to trouble anyone. It was a little embarrassing, but they were so nice about it. They made me a lovely pasta dish--and of course I didn't eat much of the linguine itself, but I ate all the vegetables out of it, and it was fine. Still, I will be glad to get home and have a meal that doesn't involve buckets of butter and heavy cream and oil and white starches. My lunch on Saturday, a bowl of homemade vegetarian black bean chili, will be one of the most refreshing meals I've ever had.

When your mind is exhausted, your body thinks it's exhausted too. Until yesterday, I was unable to work up the discipline to exercise, even though I desperately needed it. Last night I ran on the treadmill, about 3.5 miles. It felt great, and it stimulated me and made me realize that, in fact, I had plenty of energy to expend. Running involves your mind a lot too, so it wasn't entirely a veg-out session. Still, it felt good to breathe rapidly and have aching muscles, and to feel perspiration on the back of my neck. My run tonight was even better. About 8:30, when it was still barely light outside, I went out to run on the golf cart trails (the resort boasts two golf courses). The weather was just wonderful, and the terrain was gorgeous. I ran up hills and down, working out my pace all the way so that I could maximize my energy. I ran by greens and lakes, alongside small streams, through woods, and even inside a tunnel below the road. There was so much silence--just the slapping of my shoes against the path. It seemed like there was so much going on, both around me and within me. Once it got fairly dark and I was mostly spent, I turned around and ran back. This time, I ploughed straight through the night--it was as if the greens and the water all disappeared, and it was just me in a tunnel of night. I knew when I was in the woods because it became pitch black, and the flora that had looked so beautiful when I passed it the first time appeared this time as caves of nothing, exuding darkness. I ran up a steep hill, and when I got to the top there was the resort, glowing like a sand castle. It was beautiful.

Family, friends, sushi, & Edward Norton

This is my favorite kind of weekend--when you have nothing pressing to do, and you can just see all the people and do all the things that you've missed out on lately. Almost all my friends--including my husband--are graduating next weekend from UGA (I feel kind of strange to be staying a fifth year), and one of my friends' parents had a party for her yesterday, out in farm country where they live. It was like a fairy tale, sitting at white-clothed tables outside, warm spring day, a lake in the background, drinking champagne with close friends. We stayed late, then all gathered to watch 25th Hour until almost two in the morning. What a lovely time--I wish life could always be like that. But the sublime moments, when everything is right and fun and easy, are the little gems that I look forward to among everything else... The moments that make it all worth living in the end.

I went for a nice run this morning, though it was cut short by the rain. It was a gradual rain; I felt stray drops on my head when I first came outside, but the sky was black and I knew it would open up any time. And slowly it did, refreshing at first, but by the time I had run about two miles it was coming down so hard that I had to go home. But it was refreshing and energizing just the same, a habit I hope to continue this summer. Running has been hard for me lately because I've been so tired after schoolwork was done that I needed to nap or to veg. So I've enjoyed getting back into the rhythm. We went to church, and now it's off to farm country again, where Bob's family lives. Then sushi tonight with friends--again, my kind of day.

A grand finale

It's amazing that I've spent the entire academic year with the same two girls, who have been in all my accounting classes with me and stayed up until one in the morning with me, who have pulled eight- or ten-hour tax research marathons with me, studied with me, researched with me, completed projects and PowerPoints with me, and only just in the past few days am I getting the chance to see who they really are. Doing relaxing things together, having dinner together, talking about literature (not PCAOB literature, or FASB statements, or SOX, or *ahem* the Tax Code). How does that happen? How do you spend such a significant portion of your life with people, and never get to know the other sides of them? How do you manage to call someone a friend when you've never had a discussion with them that doesn't involve consolidating balance sheets or deducting passive losses? How does your life get that out-of-balance?

Anyway, I feel like that stage is over now. I put down my pencil at 10:30 this morning, and it was over--all the cramming, all the stress, all the neglect of Laura as a well-rounded person. Because next year, it won't be this way. When I come back to school in the fall, it will be to finish the last year of my MAcc, but it will also be with a new consciousness of caring for myself and living my life on more than one level. It will be to enjoy the last semester of school with my friends, my last year in Athens...

I needed a break last night, and I went to the Wesley Foundation. Bob and I have been really active there for several years now, but this past semester has made it difficult to be active in anything beyond classwork. As I tried to worship God I just found my head spinning and my heart sick; as I took communion I found myself unable to control the sobs that broke forth from my chest. And I realized that, however hard I've worked this semester, and whatever I've been able to achieve (All A's? I'm not so sure...), it's not been worth losing touch with myself, with my body, with my God. These past few months have been a constant ebb and flow, sometimes being very rewarding and exciting but often waning into frustration and worry and depression. It's time to gain my sense of self again.

My nature writing class helped keep me balanced, helped to remind me that there are aesthetic and artistic facets to my nature--helped remind me that I'm good at something, indeed even called to something, greater than crunching numbers. I'm called to reflect God and to serve Him and to serve His people. I'm called to use the gifts He has given me--the many gifts, the gifts that should be blessings and not burdens. Accounting was not a mistake for me; in fact I am quite certain that it was God's plan for me. But not the only plan. Not the ultimate goal. I'm only twenty-two, and I know there's much more than what I've seen and lived. And I know that each moment, though stressful and impossible, will flee like the dawn and just be a puff of smoke in my memory. I know that my self-attained glory will wither and fade like the grass of the field, and when that happens I better hope I have stored up some treasures in heaven, because we all reap what we sow in the end.

Barbara Kingsolver wrote, in her essay "High Tide in Tucson," that sometimes when she wakes up in the morning she thinks simply, "Let me be a good animal today." It's comforting to know, amid all our creation and striving and bustle, that we humans are really just animals. We're not some great beings over all the earth, and the only greatness we have to achieve is the greatness we burden ourselves with by seeking it. I don't always want to achieve greatness. Sometimes I just want to achieve my calling and my purpose. Sometimes I just want to wake up and breathe in and out and feel the sun on my skin and the wind in my hair. Sometimes I just want to fade among the other inhabitants of this world all around me. Sometimes I just want to be a good animal.

I think that's why I hike, and why I enjoy the earth in general. It refreshes my spiritual self and my physical body; it lets me melt away into the deep woods of Appalachia, until I am just another creature meandering along by the creek at the foot of the millennia-old mountain. I think that's why I run, because it forces me to connect with every part of my body--my respiratory and circulatory system, my ability to endure, my love for outdoors, even my need to find my way back home when I don't know where I am. And I think that's why I write, because it gives me a medium to put these things down in history, make them permanent and real. It gives me something to look back at later, when my life is out of whack again, and say, "Remember the girl I was? What happened to her? How have I come this far--and how can I get back to that place again?" And it gives me a way to share with others, and reaffirm my belonging to a greater humanity, not as someone made great by power or position but, simply, by God and through Him.

Bob is concerned for me. I don't blame him; I would be too, if I saw someone pulling her hair out at two AM every night, consumed by stress and anxiety. But that's not me anymore. That's no way to live, and it's certainly not what was intended for my life all along. With God's help, I will finally put these silly worries behind me, step into my calling and my purpose--I will become a good animal again.