We go from zero to one hundred in a second– and we do it every day. The toughest switch is probably transitioning from summer back into school mode, because in a matter of twenty-four hours, life turns from completely relaxed to oh-my-gosh-how-am-I-going-to-live-my-future-and-I-need-to-decide-right-now-because-everyone-else-is. Then, we also go from stop to start every morning. We fall asleep with Chaucer’s words or algebraic expressions in our heads only to wake up way before we get the recommended amount of sleep time, as per our psychology textbook. And we run up the hill to lift or down the hill to sociology class still shaking off unfinished dreams from the night before.
In the midst of this, we hurry to fill out applications to study abroad or for summer internships or the Honors Program. We write cover letters and resumes to the best of our ability even though we have no real idea how. Everyone is moving. Doing. Applying. And yet, no one is being. People don’t stay in Kimball after finishing their turkey burger at dinner. People skip breakfast to catch up on sleep and very few people meet at Cool Beans to simply, have coffee.
This is because of the checklist. Marina Keegan, a graduate of Yale University class of 2012, gave a commencement speech at her graduation called “The Opposite of Loneliness.” Five days after giving her speech, Marina was killed in a car accident. Though incredibly tragic, her story is incredible and her words have lived on. She wrote in her speech:
“When the check is paid and you stay at the table. When it’s four a.m. and no one goes to bed. That night with the guitar. That night we can’t remember. That time we did, we went, we saw, we laughed, we felt. The hats.”
Marina wrote about the intangibles, the moments that we don’t even realize count as moments because they are not on our checklist. We live life, myself included, trying to cross the next thing off the list. British literature. Check. American literature. Check. Lunch. Check. Spanish. Check. Lift. Check. Practice. Check. Dinner. Check. Library. Check. Bed. Check.
And then we do it again.
I don’t wait on line for stir fry because the time I spend waiting could be the time I spend doing homework. I don’t take a break to watch a Yankee Game with my friends because I told myself that I would read at least 25 pages tonight. We are always rushing to the next thing that sometimes I find myself wondering what I am looking forward to.
And then I realize that what I look forward to most is singing “Shake it Off” with my friends after a hard workout. Pillow talk with my roommate about everything from our future aspirations to double stuffed Oreos. Hearing about someone’s weekend and feeling excited for them because a boy walked them home. Because it we’re not excited for them, then what are we excited for?
College, I think, is about the relationships we make. Connecting with someone, for even a moment is arguably one of the most powerful things a person can feel.
It can be as simple as using the same toothpaste, eating the same dinosaur oatmeal, to dreaming the same dreams. You can surprise yourself, but others can also surprise you. I am not sure which is more powerful.
I think we have something to learn from each other here on the Hill though. I think that we are supposed to laugh with each other. That time someone wore two different shoes. That time we ran. The time we left the Edge only to sit and eat cookies on the floor together. The time your team helped move you from Lehy to Mulledy in under forty-five minutes.
In an excerpt from Marina Keegan’s poem Bygones, she writes:
“Do you want to leave soon?
No, I want enough time to be in love with everything…
And I cry because everything is so beautiful and so short.”
As sophomores, we may have a checklist and there is a certain satisfaction that comes with accomplishing a task. However, there are a lot of things not on the checklist that we still have to find and there is a lot to be inspired by.
As sophomores I think that we need to do two seemingly paradoxical things:
Move fast and take our time.