Monotony

- noun
1. wearisome uniformity or lack of variety, as in occupation or scenery.
2. the continuance of an unvarying sound; monotone.
3. sameness of tone, cadence, or pitch, as in speaking.

Synonyms: colorlessness, continuance, continuity, dreariness, dryness, dullness, ennui, equability, evenness, flatness, humdrum*, identicalness, invariability, levelness, likeness, monotone, monotonousness, oneness, repetitiousness, repetitiveness, routine, same old thing, similarity, tediousness, tedium, tiresomeness, unchangeableness, uniformity, wearisomness

Why am I doing this to myself?!

Oh, yeah. That whole preparing for the rest of my life thing.

I was chatting with another dorm parent this evening. "I hate my life," she said. "Why?" I asked.

"What if I end up doing this forever? I'm finished with school. What if this is all there is?!" She's in her 20's.

I realized that it never occurred to me to think about things that way. First of all, I doubt I'll ever be finished with school. Secondly, I've always been happiest when my was filled to the brim with activity. The activities filling my life just weren't particularly well-directed until I figured myself out.

Lately, each day feels like awful 1970's wallpaper: an uncomfortable mishmash recurring in an overwhelmingly busy pattern that envelops every available inch with its everywhere-ness, never pausing to consider whether each surface really needs the attention of its busy nature. Altogether, the effect is numbing, and nauseating. And boring. But not without purpose, and when I pause to reflect I know that I am not at all unhappy.

But... what if my ENTIRE LIFE is destined to be 1970's-wallpaper-busy??? Oh HELL no.

The marathon was monotonous, too, even though it spanned 26 miles of varying terrain after 300 miles of training. The monotony actually came from exhaustion, not from lack of merit in the activity. I had a purpose, and I achieved it. In 2007 at the age of 30 I couldn't run 3 miles without walking. And now I have a silly little 26.2 sticker on my car. Recently I added a little "Vanderbilt" sticker to keep it company. Taken by themselves they're not a big deal; added into the patterns of the rest of my life so far, and the likelihood of future developments, they're kind of interesting.

There is a POINT to my life. I'm not sure what that is, yet. But in the end it won't be boring. Because I'm not bored, I'm just really tired.

The uncomfortable monotony penetrates from time to time into the one blessed peacefully-interesting refuge in my life, the place which has added new comfort and energy to my purpose this year. Working together normalizes our conversations anyway; five weeks of on-campus weekends has eliminated much of the "spark" of (mental) interest in each other from our relationship. The fact that both of us are regularly physically and emotionally crushed by our work adds an unneeded, unwelcome element of pressure which makes one or both of us erupt or cling, from time to time. Last weekend was the worst it's been. I was in despair.

Fortunately, we have a strange kind of empathy and respect (and physical chemistry) that's really helped us to withstand the pressure, so far. Every now and then, I wonder how much longer we can take it, but so far we just seem to fuse more tightly together after each wave of pressure.

We need peace. We need rest. We need...purpose. Where are we going?