When I was in high school, all of my activities were continual. I was in classes with the same people (for better or worse) over and over for seven years. I played water polo on the same team for four years. Most of my friends I had known since elementary or middle school. Everything I did was done with the knowledge that it would be uninterrupted. The point I am making here is that the day-to-day facets of my life were cohesive before coming to college. My routine was year-round. I tried new things, of course, but it was with the underlying expectation that it could become a new staple in my life if I wanted it to be.Â
Once college started, that cohesively vanished. I suddenly had classes with a completely random group of people for only ten weeks. Clubs were quarterly, with people coming and going. Friendships I made would be put on pause over the summer. My first year, I wanted to join extracurriculars after giving myself some time to adjust. By the time that adjustment happened, it was spring quarter, and joining anything at that point seemed pointless. I’ll just wait until next year, I reasoned.Â
I got a job at the start of my sophomore year. I added a double-major, things got busy as they always do, and without noticing, it was spring quarter again. I considered participating in a variety of clubs, but I knew I was studying abroad in the fall of junior year. Again, it felt pointless to join something for only a quarter, to then be away for six months.Â
The summer after sophomore year was my most boring one by far. I knew I was going to study abroad, and so all I did was wait. I didn’t attempt to befriend a single person at my job since I was leaving. I turned down yoga classes with my friends, going to the gym with my brother, swimming with my Dad, and a host of other activities because it didn’t feel “worth it.” And what did I do instead? Sit around and do nothing. It is crazy to me now that I ever thought that was the better choice.
I had an obsession with progress. Everything I considered doing needed to have the opportunity to move forward, or it did not seem worth even starting. I was also scared of having to leave things I enjoyed; It felt better to not get attached at all. That mindset bled into my time abroad. I didn’t join much because I knew it wouldn’t last. I struggled to make friends, knowing I would be saying goodbye in a matter of months. I didn’t even decorate my room.
My perspective on temporality shifted when I met my friend Erin. It was mid-October in a pub in the Netherlands, with only two months left until I flew home. Normally, I would not have bothered even trying to befriend her with such a time crunch. However, something told me it was worth a try.Â
A month later, she and I went to watch her friends play soccer a few towns over. We missed the last bus back, so we stayed up all night with the team, exploring a city I would have never otherwise seen. At 4 am, when we were smiling at each other on the back of bikes, I realized I had made the right choice by texting her.Â
That was one of the best nights of my entire time abroad, and it never would have happened if I had not reached out. I understood then that any amount of time is worth spending well. Erin and I were only friends for two months, but in those two months, I had so many adventures I look back on over a year later. Those weeks lasted far longer than their run time, because I still think about them.Â
That summer, I knew something had to change from the previous year. I went on two backpacking trips. I finally swam, worked out, and did yoga. I made friends with whom I hung out for only a few weeks, and I will probably never see them again. I dated a guy for the summer, knowing it could go nowhere. The idea of that would have terrified me in the past. However, now I see it was worth spending those weeks as well as I could, rather than waiting for something long-term to come along. It was my best summer thus far. Â
I am now studying abroad for the second time. I have made real, genuine attempts to get to know the people around me. I joined kickboxing. Instead of thinking “It is only five months,” I am thinking about the fact that it is five months. Five months is 21 weeks, which is a mighty long time to go without friends, without exercise, without community. It is worth making these five months as enjoyable as possible.Â
If you can learn anything from my experience, I hope it is that it is worth doing the things that interest you, even if it is short-lived. Join a club for a quarter. Take a class at the Rec Cen, knowing you may never go again. Make friends in your classes. Go on a first date while you are home for break, because why not? All the time adds up. It’s not worth dismissing a single day, because that day could be one you remember for the rest of your life.