Neutral Gear

I like to think it's hard to surprise me. Part of this is because I've become so accustomed to things differing from my expectations in various ways. Whenever I'm about to experience a new place or situation and I catch myself dreaming up an idea of what it must be like in my head, I tell myself,
"Well, whatever it is, it's not like you think."
Then I show up and somehow, I was right. It was nothing like I expected, but the small acknowledgment beforehand adds some comfort to the uncertainty, turning it into an adventure of sorts.

Except what about when my worst fears come true, after all?

In the weeks leading up to summer break I pictured myself spending a lot of time alone in my room, isolated and bored from the utter friendlessness and mind-numbing suburbia of Stafford. And no matter how many lists of creative things to do alone I made, guess what? That's exactly what happened. I wasn't prepared for that reality.

I of all people can tell you that solitude does not mean loneliness. I thrive off of quiet walks, a good book, a noiseless night of Netflix and nail polish, some undisturbed ukulele (all of which apparently causes aimless alliteration), and some good old fashioned alone time. But willful solitude is one thing, and my current state of affairs is another entirely.

Make no mistake. I love my family. I love my new car. I love the people in my life that I have the ability to see in person right now.

But can I be honest?

Few times in my life have I felt this kind of lonely.

It's reminding me of the difference between like-minded and like-hearted people. If I looked hard enough, I'm sure I would have no shortage of like-minded people with which to spend my days. But I'm aching for someone who's like-hearted to just... even spend a few hours of conversation with, and the emptiness is filling me to the brim and draining the rest of me out, and I end my days tired even though I didn't do anything.
Every day is like trying to swim through syrup: I could exhaust myself and travel two inches, or I could just float numbly in the warmth and hope someone eventually pulls me out.

I....

I'm okay. But that's it. Every day is just okay. It terrifies me.

You're Never Done, and That's Okay

Here I am, back in my fluffy, blue/white/gray comforter, the year of college and pretend adulthood melting away to reveal that I am still, in fact, a child. I'm thinking about the possible summer jobs I could end up with in the next week or two, and mentally ranking them from "Sure why not" to "never in a million years." I'm preparing to go downstairs and shop for used cars with my dad. I'm imagining my goals for the 3 years of college I have left, and even the weird, foggy possibilities of what might happen after that, and trying unsuccessfully to connect myself with the term "career." And I was listening to Amy Poehler's book on Audible, as my cat snored at my feet in a fluffy ball, and she helped me realize something I should have figured out years ago:

The thing you do is not the thing you are.

You can spend a lifetime (or in my case, a couple school years) struggling, slaving, and reaching for the thing you think you want (two years ago, it was a transcript good enough to merit any school I wanted, including Ivy League, and simultaneous stardom on a high school level; now, it's probably stardom on a collegiate level, including but not limited to: being on the improv troupe and therefore included in the coolest friend group of all time, lead roles in all the shows, the perfectly effortless style, and mild celebrity because of my glowing personality), and two things will happen. 1) you will never actually get there, or have a mountaintop "I made it!" moment, and 2) even if you do, it won't be enough.

And Amy was right. I thought about graduation, and finishing AP tests, and all the times people asked me if I felt accomplished or proud or satisfied that I had "finished." But I didn't, because I think I always knew I was never really finished. You are never actually done. The "end product" will never satisfy you, because it's not the end.

But here is the thing I was missing. You don't have to care about the results of what you do, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't care about the doing of it. There is a difference between valuing how good you are at something and valuing how good the rest of the world thinks you are at it. It's the border between apathy and ambivalence, between careless and carefree. 
This is what I missed for so long. All my efforts meant nothing to me if the Great and Powerful College Board didn't look at me and say "Wow! What an amazing student and person! You are truly one of a kind. Any school would be lucky to have you." But I couldn't stop caring altogether, because then I would be a bad student. I was trapped in a horrible system that I'd constructed myself.

I want college to be different. This week during my end-of-year interview with the theater department, one of the professors told me to "embrace instability." To ignore my ingrained instincts and ability to do a Very Good Job and do what I think is expected of me, and instead not be afraid to ruffle a few feathers if it means finding something new and inspiring about myself.

I say that like I'm going to do it. I might not. But I'm going to try.

Thanks Amy. (Is it okay if I call you that?)

May's Euphoric Flowers

Every spring, I question if fall really is my favorite season. Especially here. After the dreary, heavy, endless New England winter that exhausted even my love of the crisp cold, there's something about the world regaining it's color that is nothing short of magical. It's as if I'd forgotten what certain colors looked like, and all of a sudden seeing gold and cream and magenta and emerald painting the trees gets my head spinning and my eyes popping out of my head with glee.

Even the tiniest taste of warmth is intoxicating. The northern chill still hangs in the air in the form of a sudden breeze or in dim patches of shade, but there are patches of sunlight where even the slightest shadow of cold is banished, and there's nothing but beautiful warmth. My skin is a sponge, soaking up every bit of it that my being can hold.

Soon I will be in bright, humid Virginia where the heat will hang around me like a blanket and lull me into constant drowsiness, but right now it is a gentle pair of arms, lifting me out of my winter slumber, shaking my shoulders and nudging my walk into a skip everywhere I go. It's wondrous.

Saying Yes to I Don't Know

I had to do an end-of-year questionnaire for my major. These are some of the things I was asked:

   Have you begun a networking strategy for post-graduation? List individuals you have spoken to regarding your career.

   Do you have a personal artistic mission or purpose? What are some elements of that purpose? 

   At this point, what are your post-graduation plans? 

I panicked. Networking strategies? Mission statements? Plans?

At my delicate, barely-not-even-adult age, I am being asked these huge, big-picture type questions, and it makes me wonder if those should be the things that fill my head, because the things I think about on a daily basis are not big-picture. Today, I was walking back to my room and thought, I should pet a golden retriever today. And that was it. I didn't think about my "network." I just wanted to interact with a fluffy dog. That's who I am right now.

And that's okay.

I don't know where my life is headed. But God does. And right now, I'm just waiting for Him to let me in on little bits and pieces of it. I could become a freelance writer, I could become a professional golden retriever walker, I could land a role in the next Star Wars movie, or I could be a barista for the rest of my life and open a coffee shop/bakery/antique book store. Anything could happen, and that anything could be completely aligned with my idea of how my life should go, or it could be the exact opposite, which is more likely. Either way, I'm just happy to be along for the ride.

Lately I've been reading this book, and there was a chapter on saying yes to opportunities that God puts in our lives. The author said He often uses completely random and non-logical things to point us towards Him. Maybe we don't think we're qualified, but chances are there's a reason we're being asked to join into something, so we'd better not miss out on God's inexplicably cool plans. 

I want that. The adventure that comes from throwing the agenda out the window. I think I'm getting little tastes of it. The other day, I got asked to act in a sketch for my school's version of SNL. I had a free hour, so I did it. Earlier this month, I got asked to lead worship for my dorm's speaker series. I can play the ukulele and sing, so I did it. Then, someone asked if I could take pictures to be on posters around the school for someone's senior performance piece. I can take pictures. So I said yes. They were little things, things I like doing, and they didn't mess up anything on my schedule, so I said yes.

And then it hit me. What if God's pulling a Mr. Miyagi on me? What if He's starting out with small things, and then one day someone will come running up to me and ask me to do something I never thought I was capable of? Something that scares me and maybe even messes up my schedule. 

Will I say yes?

I hope so. I'd hate to miss out on His plans. They always end up being so much better. 

April's Foreboding Showers

Everyone around me is complaining about how strenuous their nights of not studying for finals are, wearing Birkenstock sandals, and asking each other every five minutes "how excited" they are for summer to start. No one every says what exactly summer holds that make it so enticing... I think they're just ecstatic about concept.

I'm all for warm weather and adventures, but pretending that I'm "so ready to be out of here" with everyone else is draining. Because I'm not. Ready. I like it here. Why is everyone so ready to leave? We just got here. Some people are leaving for good, because they're graduating. Is no one else bummed about that? If I were those seniors I'd be terrified.

When I wake up here each morning, I know what will happen. I know exactly what's expected of me and there are people each day that I'm excited to talk to and it's all very comfortable and familiar. I don't want that to change. I think I'm putting off hunting for cardboard boxes because the thought of packing up my dorm room is just too overwhelming. I don't want to wake up in a room that isn't this one, with nothing to look forward to each day.

I don't want to hunt for a boring, fluorescent-lit, minimum wage job that will drain my sunny days and will to live. I don't want to scour used car lots for an aged car with personality that I can give people rides in with pride only to get stuck with a smelly, beige Toyota that I despise. I don't want to have to wait for weekly phone calls to hear the voices of the people here that I love instead of sauntering over to their bedroom. I don't want to be bored and lonely and stressed for two months. Why would I?

So to answer your question: no, I'm not excited for finals either, but not for the reason you think.

To the Graduating Class,

The latter half of senior year of high school had such a profound effect on me that it would be an injustice not to share some of it, if only to help others climb out of the black holes into which I plummeted. Seniors, I can say with confidence that I know what you're going through. Here are a few things I would be remiss if I didn't impart to you:

- Firstly, people never stop saying how "fun and exciting" senior year is. I never got why, and it's okay if you don't either. Senior year was a dark, trying time, and well-meaning adults can handle it if you're honest with them. It's okay if you hate it. You're not the only one.

- The tumultuous burden of applications is finally over, but the final decision-making period will take almost as much of a toll. Don't let it define you. I spent so much time worrying over whether not I would pick the "right" school, the "right" classes, etc. But the truth is: any school is the right one if you feel at home there. In the end, it comes down to relationships. You can switch majors or meal plans, but you can't change the people you're surrounded with. Focus on choosing a community rather than a set of buildings.

- Your grades right now do not matter as much as you think they do. I know that is blasphemous and hypocritical (especially coming from someone who cared a LOT about that), but it's true. Something that will become very clear in college is that at the end of the day they're just numbers. Your best may not be the Ivy League's standard of "best" and that is okay. You do not have to prove yourself to anyone. If you're deciding between studying for an exam and having one last sleepover with all of your best pals, give yourself a night off and cherish the people that will soon be scattered.

- Please, please, please appreciate the value of living at home while you still can. So-called "freedom" is not all it's cracked up to be, and there will be so many days you will miss the convenience and familiarity that comes with home and family. Savor the luxury of high-quality bathrooms. Thank your washing machine for not being old and clogged with a hundred people's hair. Don't protest that you're "practically" an adult when your parents continue to enforce curfew. Tell them you love them and then help with the dishes. I'm dead serious. That version of "normal" will end, and you will miss it.

- It's okay if you're not going to miss most of the people you go to school with. It's okay to let go of high school. Even if you're all going to the same state school together, get excited for the brand new crop of friends you're going to make. Don't be afraid to select the "random" option for a roommate. The unknown can be surprisingly beautiful when it comes to making friends; chances are those same five people you're used to hanging out with will disperse, and that's okay. Keep in touch with the important people, but stay open to the prospect of new ones.

- Right now you're probably really good at a lot of things that won't matter in a few months. And that's fine, and you should enjoy this time when your ability to procrastinate and flirt and other high school things are all that you need to do. But soon no one will care that you were class president or prom queen or have a hot tub or an A in Bio. You'll be the one who's inexperienced and naive, and you'll need to be ready to humble yourself and learn. It's a tough transition, so don't let it shock you.

- At the same time, don't let anyone make you think you have to know what you're doing with your life right now. When people ask you where you "want to go" with your major, you can say "I don't know yet." They will live with that answer. You're not supposed to have it all figured out. In fact, that's part of the beauty of this time. Eventually, you WILL need to figure things out, but that's not for a while. College is not the end, it is merely a stepping stone. You can focus on this one step and not the next 5.

In general, just don't wind yourself too tight and let life happen to you. You've come so far, and there's so much ahead of you, and the best thing you can do for yourself is relax into it.

Oh, and throw confetti and scream and take a BILLION pictures at graduation. Let it be the happiest, cheesiest celebratory day ever. You've earned it.

It Was a Sweats-Only Week

As I should probably have expected, registering for even the most mundane of classes next semester sent me spiraling into a "what-am-I-going-to-do-with-my-whole-life" abyss of despair:

Okay, so I have to take Scientific Enterprise because core classes or whatever but I will only take it during the 1:15 slot so I can take that cool Shakespeare acting class OH what if I took a class where I analyzed classical music and got to be all hipster and spend an hour 3 days a week being pretentious and knowing stuff about the Renaissance, that exists right, I could do it after yoga, but wait Musical Theater is at the same time as Creative Writing so I can't take it until junior year but that was when I wanted to go "abroad" which might just end up being a semester in LA but like how cool would it be to actually hop off a plane at LAX with a dream and a cardigan JUST ONCE, that could be cool and I could get an internship at BuzzFeed or something and have swivel chair races through the office with Zach Kornfeld and become BFFs and then when I came back to make a real living I'd already have pals who knew how hilarious and adorable I was but wait would I like, MOVE there because I'm not a city person and HOLD UP I still have to live in Europe at some point but if I'm going to actually for real be in movies in real life I should probably get on that, I mean why don't I actually have an agent yet, I wonder if Matt knows where to find one, he probably has like a billion New York connections by now, wow I'm so behind in the industry and I'm not even there yet but WAIT A SECOND how do I only have 12 credits, they scheduled all the good classes at the same time why do they do that??? 

Somehow I've found myself in Power Yoga, Advanced Shakespeare Acting, Environmental Science, and Survey of Musical Masterworks all at the same time and my income has yet to exceed nine dollars an hour. But it's cool. I'm still in the campus bubble.

For now.