As cliche as it may sound, the idea of wanderlust has always resonated with me. The complete and utter desire to travel, to explore, to be in an unknown element. I’ve spent many an evening staring at the horizon of the beautiful Pacific Ocean–body enveloped by the evening sky and yet mind unpresent. I would be overtaken by thoughts of where I would rather be. It’s not that I don’t love Southern California with every ounce of my being, I do. But on those evenings, my mind would leave the West Coast and bounce around South America, then Europe and on to every other country and continent my heart desired. Lost; imagining adventures and cultures alien to me all while my body was consumed by the vibrant array of colors that painted the sunsetting sky, so thick and engulfing that they felt as if they took up space between the air molecules.
[Santa Barbara, CA]
Maybe my desire for travel stemmed not from boredom of my home but from respect to its beauty. Waking up to the sound of the ocean, stepping outside to see the swell hit the shore like a graceful dance, then turning to see the sun hitting the green mountains behind me. It’s the dream, right? Because of this life I’ve been gifted with, I have an innate respect and deep appreciation for nature and the world around me. I don’t think my smile is ever as sincere as it is when it comes from a dreamy view or an epic sunset. I’d like to think my eyes brighten in reflection to the suns rays breaking through the clouds. I want to travel because I want find new experiences like this.
[Ventura, CA]
That’s why I packed up and travelled across the country for school. Harvard had its own immense appeal (duh) but the East Coast had that unknown magic to it. It was new and that’s all I wanted. Sure, it’s no sunny-and-75 year round like I’m accustomed to, but it comes with its own set of impressive qualifications I had never seen before.
Freshman year, walking through the yard on my way to class, I could have drowned in the color. Not a sunset this time, but leaves at all different stages of the season hanging and framing the silhouettes of the trees they come from. Falling down, slowly and gracefully, they made me feel as if I stepped out of my repetitive life and into a calendar.
Then the sun left us and the rain came. I can remember a night where I just embraced it—magic. Walking home one evening, I let my hair down, turned my music up, and just let the rain pound down upon me rather than ducking out of its way. Never had I felt more alive than that moment. There’s something to be said for just embracing the environment around you. I want that, and I want that in places I’ve never been.
The problem with my wanderlust is my limitations. I’m a poor college student trying to make something of myself. I don’t have the funds for fun nor the time, so escaping became almost a fixation. I would sit in section with thoughts of bungee jumping in Prague, not Foucault or cognitive dissonance or interest rates. Have you ever just wanted to get up out of class and leave? Pack your bags, buy a plane ticket to anywhere but here and see what comes your way?
Sometimes I feel like I’m doing Harvard wrong. I love this school for all it is and for all it provides me: an amazing education, incredible opportunities, and most importantly– I feel– outstanding peers. But I feel as if I’m allowing my imagination of the “what if” to create limitations to my experience. So, recently I’ve tried to distance myself from my dreams and instead of stepping back, I’ve made the effort to step forward. Forward and into the moment.
We live at a travel destination, do you ever really recognize that? I mean, beyond the annoying tourists you can’t help but trip over whenever you cross campus, do you ever think about exactly where we are right now?
Harvard. An establishment that bleeds history, prestige, and wonder. You don’t just attend a university with history, you are a part of that history–even if it feels so average when you’re sitting in class. We are lucky to ‘bleed crimson’ and I get that feeling that others, like I, have a tendency to take that for granted. We tend to be so focused on our futures and what’s ahead of us with such intensity and high hopes that we overlook what’s around us right here, right now.
So, just as a reminder: you don’t need to travel to find magic. You’re living it, breathing it, all while you’re tripping on the ancient uneven brick sidewalks you walk everyday on your way to lecture in the looming old buildings that compose our wondrous campus. So be grateful and embrace the place you’re in. You won’t be here forever.
#BleedCrimson