Today I was thinking about my final hours as a college student. The day was nothing special, besides the fact it happened to be 12/12/12. It was the worst kind of rain outside: Seattle drizzle. That misty stuff that nestles its way into my tresses, doubling its size, and not in a lusciously voluminous Pantene way at all.
The center cushion of the couch had become "my jam" as Julie put it, and I spent the morning sitting there in my pjs with laptop in its appropriate lap location and flashcards in hand. There were a lot of Facebook, Pinterest, Twitter and Instagram breaks. Oops. Obviously I was ready, or just really bored of studying, or just didn't care anymore; most likely a combination. I drank two cups of English breakfast tea, one of peppermint green tea, and a 20 oz. bottle of VitaRain. (My bladder proved surprisingly resilient, despite the fearful reality that I was literally locked into one of my exam rooms for two hours that afternoon.)
I walked down into the basement of the Art Building to take my last final, ever. Down in that cement hallway were three types of people. The art advisor was giving a tour of the building to future students of the university who looked a little out of sorts, perhaps anxiously anticipating sleepless nights in the studio, and fateful reviews from professors and peers. There were also test takers waiting outside the exam room, buzzing with excitement in having nearly finished the first of three rounds of finals this school year. Then there were people standing silently and staring into space. That was me. Maybe some were graduating seniors pondering their future and thinking, "Oh crap." But maybe the other silent bystanders were, like me, experiencing a curious and unexpected inner calm. I felt it necessary to imagine myself a wallflower, physically detached and taking it all in one last time.
While waiting to be let into the room, my professor came up to a group of us, erroneously taking our reserve as a sign of nerves. She told us not to worry; that she had created a very fair exam. What she didn't understand was my sense of peace. I had spent the entire quarter endlessly reading, rereading, memorizing, and gaining understanding of concepts, and frankly I was done with it all. I was ready to move on; ready to stop listening to the unoriginal obnoxious overachievers and moody future art historians; ready to regain a balanced life; ready to see the light of day (literally) and the friends I had been missing so much.
Two hours of writing later, I emerged. I called my mom. I called my brother. Then I walked home, got in my pjs, turned on Father of the Bride, and rearranged my bedroom. Thrilling way to celebrate, I know. But it was necessary. I felt the need to re-nest, and the need for the comfort of home by watching my family's favorite movie.
Weeks later I still have felt no particular "I'm done!" moment. Perhaps it would have been more grand and momentous if I didn't have to wait until June to walk in my graduation. Is this depressing you? I hope not. I apologize for not being more exciting. What I realized through all of this is that life moves on pretty quickly. One moment you're slaving away at your studies, and the next you're set free and released to the world. It's all rather surreal, isn't it? I imagine Dali's images of warped clocks, which appear as if they are melting over the objects on which they hang. Time is a continuum of moments fusing into other moments, always moving forward and never really having a beginning or an end. Such is life, as I have learned.
I have been blessed to be able to come home to my family for several days this Christmas. As I prepare to go back to Seattle, one of my mother's favorite phrases is written on the interior of my forehead, "Waste not thy hour." It is with great intention that I go back to my life away from home with the motivation to make each moment count for something, and to enjoy life to its fullest. Maybe the New Year syndrome has something to do with my zeal. Yet I also acknowledge that, thanks be to God, joy is at my fingertips, and I can find it in every situation depending on how I choose to approach each moment.
Cheers!
