“I think I’m going to make a quick stop at the church.”
Those were the words I overheard from a professor as I made my way to my car through Gate 1. Crossing paths with him and hearing those twelve words flipped a switch in my brain. Here was this professor, whom I assumed had just finished a long day and was probably eager to get home, taking a detour for something he cared about. This piece is not necessarily about religion, but more so about the commitment we have to the things that make us feel whole.
There are certain things we can consider as extensions of ourselves. Maybe it is art, dance, writing, literature, documentaries, or something completely different. Whatever it may be, there is usually something that, when someone sees it out in the world, automatically reminds them of you. These are the little interests and habits that become part of who we are.
As college students, however, it is easy to fall into the habit of only doing what needs to get done. We plan our days around deadlines, assignments, exams, meetings and schedules that follow our syllabi more than our own personal agendas. I know this is a bad habit of mine. So much of my day revolves around figuring out what assignment is due next, what test I need to study for, or what I need to finish before going to sleep. Meanwhile, I rarely make time to color with my obnoxiously precise marker, fill in my sticker catalog for the month, or even pick up a pen and journal.
This is what made the phrase “I think I’m going to make a quick stop at the church” stick with me. It was not some huge or dramatic act. It was simply someone deciding that, regardless of whatever else was waiting for him, he was going to make time for something that mattered to him. There is something beautiful about that kind of commitment.
I think we often treat the things we enjoy as rewards for finishing everything else. I’ll journal when I finish studying. I’ll read when my assignments are done. I’ll pick up that hobby again when the semester gets easier. But the truth is, there will probably always be something else to do. Another assignment, another exam, another responsibility. If we keep waiting for the perfect free moment, the things that once made us feel like ourselves can slowly start to disappear from our routines.
So maybe we have to make the time ourselves. Even if it means literally putting it on the to-do list. Take the detour. Color for twenty minutes. Journal before bed. Listen to the album you have been meaning to hear. Do something that exists outside of school, work and deadlines.
Maybe today’s to-do list should include one more thing: take care of me, for once.
Honestly, doesn’t that sound kind of great?