Stop and Smell the Roses

My social media has been flooded with stories. Last week, several major universities from my home state released their acceptance notifications for the class of 2024, and I saw the lives of so many of my underclassmen friends completely change. For a lot of them, their entire futures were altered in a matter of seconds. I was happy for them, but my joy was lined with slight jealousy. I remember the high after getting into my dream school, the excitement of meeting new people, the prospect of a new chapter of my life. The buzz of possibilities. So as I was sitting in Duncan Student Center with what seemed like a never-ending list of things I needed to get done by the end of the day sitting in front of me, I finished watching these stories, set my phone down and grudgingly went back to work. 

Perspective is a funny thing. We look outward at the progress of everyone else and see how we measure up in comparison. We look so far forward into the future that it becomes overwhelming; we become engulfed in the idea that we’re not doing as much as we should to prepare for our futures. Seldom do we turn around and look at how far we’ve come; hardly do we look at our present selves and realize we’re sitting in the time of our lives. It seems as if every time we enter a new period of our lives, the excitement dissipates, we become comfortable and we lose touch with the present moment. We fall into a mundane routine where we bemoan about the grind or complain about a future we have yet to even comprehend. We rarely stop and smell the roses. 

At this point, you’re probably sick of hearing the advice to “Live in the present!” and “Change your perspective, it could be worse.” I know sometimes I completely gloss over these seemingly helpful pieces of advice, because really, when you’re drowning in work, there is a struggle to see what could possibly be going right in the present moment. These hackneyed sayings seem like nothing but empty words used to try and persuade us to change how we approach our situations. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes, that’s exactly what we need to do. But other times, it’s the opposite of what we need.

So my challenge to you, dear reader, is not to completely block out the future and only “live in the present,” but rather to stop yourself every so often and smell the roses. Look up at the Dome when you pass it. Go to the 13th floor of Hes, find a tiny wooden desk and look out onto the quad as you work. Appreciate the grind, don’t resent it. I recognize it would be unrealistic to expect everyone to hold an optimistic approach to figuring out our lives and our future plans, because we all know how tough it gets. It’s only natural to become too comfortable and enter a routine where we forget how much we looked forward to where we are in the present moment. However, when you are looking forward to the next period of your life—because you will—don’t forget to look down at where you are now. One day you might regret not stopping, picking up the rose and enjoying the moment.