Frightening Pastures

A painting of Jane Austen by her older sister Cassandra.

My relationship with this semester has felt a little like Elizabeth’s relationship with Darcy. When Lizzy’s loathing of that “arrogant,” “conceited” and impossible man begins to abate and she finally realizes the existence of some virtues in his character, it appears too late.

The import of becoming mistress of Pemberley doesn’t dawn until the chance has evaporated. While I haven’t exactly rejected a proposal from an incredibly wealthy Englishman this semester, I did criticize my semester’s seemingly impossible work load and “selfish disdain for the feelings of others.” (Others’ feelings meaning my own preferences).

 Burying my head to withstand sixteen weeks of twenty-one units, I safely promised to never wrestle with that many classes again. Just as Lizzy wishes Mr. Darcy to disappear, I prayed that the fall semester would magically vanish.

Now as final exams prepare to descend, the truism rings in my ears, “Be careful what you wish for.” Vanquishing several term papers this week, I grasp the impending end of a much dreaded season. And as the unwelcome attentions of this semester withdraw and prepare to depart, I slowly understand how good it has really been.

What seemed like the taxing demand of school and work and family and friends and life, now seems virtuous in its fullness. Busyness in hindsight seems less like havoc and more like excitement.

When Elizabeth begins to comprehend Darcy’s hidden caliber as a gentleman, she doesn’t necessarily abandon her prior assumptions about his pride but reevaluates things. Similarly, I’m not willing to allow that this semester hasn’t had some challenges and periods of heightened stress. But it might have contained some greater merits than I would previously have admitted.

There have been many chapters in my book of learning contentment. I typically experience a similar pining over endings. When the gate finally opens to taste the grass on the other side, I want to brace my feet into the ground and push back to stay in what I’ve been complaining about for so long. The better pasture proves frightening. I would rather persist in the place I now know because it’s already conquered. I don’t learn contentment and happiness in a situation until the time comes to move on towards the much anticipated next phase.

            When Elizabeth learns more about Mr. Darcy, she feels a greater loss since the prospect of ever seeing him again seems unlikely. I, however, look forward to one more bout with school next semester. Looking towards this, I continue compiling research for my senior project. 

Some light Christmas break reading.