all's well that ends well

Yes, it is a cliche. But cliche's are born because people find them to fit the situation at hand so well. I was sick, had a good day, and feel better: all's well that ends well. It's amazing how rotten we can make ourselves feel just by letting our emotions get overworked with worry. I was deathly afraid of both my creative writing class and my jazz combo class--having not prepared for either. As the day progressed I lost more and more focus until I finally showed up in creative writing simply not caring what would happen.

Apathy is like a comfortable bed: you know you need to get out, but you can never think of a good reason as to why you should, the longer you stay, the worse it gets.

Obviously all of my worry and my eventual lapse in passion was uneccessary and subsied quickly. I told my creative writing teacher that I didn't have my assignment done. "okay--bring it next time." In combo I stopped worrying and simpy just started playing (which is the essence of improv anyway) and didn't do too terribly.
This isn't the first time I've stressed myself out so much from feer and worry that it's made me sick. And yet, everytime I face the music (as it were) and just go through with it ,it never turns to be as bad as I thought it was going to be. Isn't it interesting how one tends to be one's worst critic. When we know we haven't done all that we could, or could have done something better, we come down harder on ourselves that anyone else does. When pen up our apprehensions it manifests itself into stress and eventual ailment; if we just let our problems go and quit worrying about what's going to happen, life is less stressful and actaully fun from time to time.
It's an easy lesson to forget, people get so caught up in self doubt and worry that we are sure the world will have a contract out on our lives by the end of the day. But the world doesn't really care about us, and that's sort of comforting to know. When I think about the hardship I have seen, the faces of the little of children who have to struggle through their lives without a possesion to their name, I feel guilty that I've wasted so much energy concerned that my teacher won't like me as much. I have an absolutely wonderful life and I should be thankful that I have it so lucky.
There is a neccessary balance between ambition and apathy. There is a place between two mountains of extreme emotion--a feild of calm and composition, of thoughtfulness and intellect. In this feild flowers grow as they are needed and do not grow when they're not. Shade is provided at the right moments and the when only blows to whisper the words "get it done." This is what I'm searching for--this place of motivation without compulsion, but relaxation without lethargy. When I find it, I promise I will show you how to get there too.