You hold tight to your umbrella
Well darlin’ I’m just tryin’ to tell ya
That there’s always been a rainbow
hangin’ over your head
~Rainbow, Kacey Musgraves~
After playing more than I should’ve over the weekend, I got my work done. I’m not exaggerating when I say that every time I finish a paper it feels like a small divine miracle has happened. I can’t even explain exactly what’s hard about it. I don’t mind the title page and I can handle the reference page, but the pages in between are what I never quite know how they’re going to get done, especially when we have to be official and write using research.
I actually was jealous of people who seem to be able to do this much easier. It wasn’t the innocent and loving kind of jealous. It was legitimate I-don’t-like-you-right-now kind of jealous. I guess me writing about it here is me repenting. I’ve actually been jealous of a few things lately, each one having to do with words. Where do people get the confidence to say anything with certainty, to communicate as if they actually know something? I have to cite every word I say.
I recently saw a rainbow in the morning sky, but without rain. To be more specific, here’s exactly what I was envious of–the ability to put experience, knowledge, and understanding into words. And not just any words, but words that exude a supernatural radiance. I know time and practice must have to factor in somewhere. I don’t want to bury or misuse talents, however non-utilitarian certain talents seem to be, like writing of a rainbow without rain when I see it.