I think it was somewhere between the first day of school’s hectic running around (no, I hadn’t bought my books and yes, I had spilled coffee all over my binder and wow, how was I going to fit in all those convos?) and the second day of school’s even more hectic running around (no, my books still hadn’t come yet even though Amazon said 24-hour delivery and yes, my new binder cost an arm-and-a-leg at the bookstore and wow, why am I so exhausted?) that I realized something.
I don’t know how I’m doing my life.
I mean, I know what I am doing. I am going to school. I am studying. I am volunteering. I’m eating, sleeping, praying, singing my happy little working song, sweating it out with Campus Rec. because I like to think I’m legit, and it all seems to be running running running. Running smoothly for the most part. I finally received my books, no thanks to the Polar Vortex that delayed everything. I recycled my coffee-stained binder. And I discovered that I liked Wednesday Convocation again. Shout-out whoever has been choosing the speakers recently, because I haven’t fallen asleep once. And that’s a big deal for me.
The first week of school was the usual frantic scramble to get everything in order. There were reunions with old friends, of course, and with those who had returned from studying abroad. Welcome back, sophomores! We missed you. For sophomores who are still abroad, keep having adventures, don’t sleep or shower because that is just “so American” and, whatever you do, keep us entertained with your pictures that we all secretly stalk on Facebook no matter how emphatically we may deny it.
I digress. My sincerest apologies. This is my first article of the year so I feel compelled to hop along different rabbit trails because there is just so much to talk about. New semester, new “Grains Bar” at the Caf, new transfer students, new resolutions and new frustrations. Get ready for a fun ride, my dear readers, because this ol’ brain of mine has been scheming about what to write in my articles. Trust me, it may be politically incorrect and it may be overdramatic and it will definitely be haphazardly colorful, but all the best things are.
This brings me back to my running running running because, even though I may think my life is going at top-speed to somehow fit everything into the hours I have, inevitably, there comes that fatal point of stop. And, in the calm of the stop, I am forced to be honest with myself. It is like the half-second where you don’t breathe when you see fireworks shooting up in the sky on the Fourth of July. You know something is there, because it is a gray streak against the black sky, but you cannot quite see it yet. You don’t know when it will explode. You don’t know what it will be when it does. You don’t know how long it will last. You don’t know whether the falling embers will scorch you or whether you will just ooh and aah at its brilliance. Will it change your life forever? Maybe. Then again, maybe you’ll just tuck the image in your mind as just another nice show.
For me, moments of fireworks are moments of honesty. What am I doing with my life? Sure, I may be involved in numerous activities or jobs or school, but those are just the outcome of what I am actually doing. At the risk of sounding trite, am I doing in a way that will leave me…well…happy? How am I doing my life? Of course, I forget that on the daily. I cannot help but get caught up in all the scattered passions that I possess: writing for this humble little column, pursuing positions for various clubs, studying for my next organic chemistry exam, baking a new creation for my favorite freshbossmen (you know who you are) and everything else in between. When I get so caught up in these things, though, I wonder if I lose sight of the how in the what. Actions are the outcome of doing. So…what I am doing with my life?
Enter what I have so named the “Mid-College Crisis.”
What is this beast, you ask? Oh, wouldn’t you like to know.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Follow Taylor Nam on Twitter: @nam_nam330
