As I’ve been waiting to hear about grad school the last couple agonizing weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about opportunities and how and when they present themselves. I borrowed the title for this post from that old proverb “Whenever God closes a door, he usually opens a window somewhere else.”

I still haven’t heard anything yet, though given that there is no mail delivery on Sundays, my paranoia has been able to rest for a day. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been watching the calendar closely. I mean, tomorrow’s March 1st, already! Shouldn’t I have heard something by now? I keep wondering what that means, manipulating various scenarios in my head to drive myself even crazier: “They said mid-March, but last year it was late February. I bet you find out early if you’ve been rejected right away–I bet your letter will come Monday.” Or, “Of course you haven’t heard anything yet–they want to let the Chosen Ones know first, so the fact that your letter hasn’t come yet is just proof that you didn’t get in. You’ll probably find out on March 15–those bastards read Shakespeare, after all.”

Sigh. I could go on, and I did, obsessing for days. But then I watched a story about Evan Lysacek that aired right before he skated his gold-medal-winning routine. All the commentators had been talking about his rigorous preparation for that night, how he had done every possible thing he could have, and that no matter what happened, he knew that he had left no stone unturned in his quest for gold. That story played over and over in my head for the next day or two–I just couldn’t get over how calm Lysacek had looked with so much pressure riding on his shoulders. He was calm because he knew he had done everything he could to succeed.

I decided that that was precisely how I needed to look at this whole grad school thing. I did everything I could this time around–I left no stone unturned in my quest for admittance into the program. Whatever comes in that letter, acceptance or rejection, I know that I did my best, so it’s time for me to stop obsessing and start thinking about doors and windows.

I went to a great Writers Festival this weekend, which showed me many, many open windows and which reminded me that I already know how to climb through them. I just have to learn to recognize them when I see them, which is how I have vowed to view whatever comes next–someone may show me a closed door in the next few days, but I will find the open window–I’m going to get there, one way or the other.

Proof of that came today, when I opened up my e-mail and found a request from an agent I’d queried–she wants a full reading of my manuscript. Yay! Not the first time that’s happened, but it’s been a while, and it’s always nice to be asked.

Will this be the open window? Who knows? But I’m certainly not interested in wondering any more about doors closing on me…I’ve driven myself crazy enough with that.

But I will keep you posted. Thanks for coming along with me.