In C.S. Lewis' "Perelandra", which just might be my favourite book (at any rate, I've read it more times than any other book), the main character, Ransom, finds himself caught in an inner debate (or a debate with God, depending on how you want to read it- I actually find this particular passage to be one of the most interesting understandings on the problem of free will, but that's for another post if I'm ever feeling theological).
After going back and forth for a while, Ransom passes, as it were, the point of decision. Lewis writes, "and then, without any apparent movement of the will, as objective and unemotional as the reading of a dial, there had arisen before him, with perfect certitude, the knowledge "about this time tomorrow you will have done the impossible" [....] The future act stood there, fixed and unaltered as if he had already performed it. It was a mere irrelevant detail that it happened to occupy the position we call future instead of that which we call past".
When I applied to graduate school again, I said I wasn't sure which scared me most; not getting in again, or getting in. Because getting in would mean a decision would have to be made. Do I leave here, after fighting for year to make this place a home, and leave my nice job in Social Media, to spend four years of my life pursuing a degree that most consider useless? Do I give up my work at the middle school were I feel like I'm making a difference in student's lives? How can I abandon my students to selfishly spend four years looking out for my own interests?
And then my fear was realized: I was accepted into FSU. My feelings were mixed. I was elated, and felt like I had finally overcome the failure I'd felt last year when I wasn't accepted, but also scared. Now I had a choice to make.
Yet somehow, over the past week, I've felt the reality of the choice fade farther and farther away, until, like Ransom, I found a decision had been made without mine consciously knowing it. And this time next year, I will be in graduate school.