“If we don’t count weekends… and we take winter break and spring break out since they are actually fun…. We only have 155 more days of school before summer!”
This is a quote I inevitably hear year after year around the halls of Colorado School of Mines during the first month of classes. The grind has begun: waking up around sunrise, trying to muster up the energy to workout, usually failing at that, grabbing yet another granola bar on the way out of the house, and finally rolling into a long day of classes about five minutes after the first lecture starts. This day is going to be a marathon in itself. Meetings between classes, too little time to sit and eat lunch like a real adult, homework assignments and studying that cannot feasibly be completed in the 168 hours available to us in a week, attempts to be social and embrace clubs on campus, coffee cup number five by 4 p.m., and just enough sleep at the end of it to keep the eye bags to a semi-acceptable shade of awful. This rhythm of sorts just never seems to stop.
When, finally, the school decides to give us just enough time to get a real gulp of air before struggling to stay afloat again, it seems that those few golden hours fly by faster than any lecture in all of eternity ever did. This is what we signed up for at age 18 when we walked onto this college campus with pride. This is what we continually come back for at the end of summer, knowing how incredibly trying and demanding it is going to be.
This busy and overwhelming life is the reason we complain about our professors’ grading styles, go to bed angry with someone on any given day, and keep our eyes locked on the pavement two feet ahead of our scuffed up shoes. This is why we sometimes find it hard to want to communicate with our peers when the only thing on the mind is how many things are yet to be done and how exhausted we already are when it is only 2 p.m. Surprisingly though, this exact grind is what we also shed a few tears to have to leave when summer break makes it big entrance.
It is a paradox of huge proportions to say the least. We moan and cry and clench our fists at the level of difficulty of the programs at this school; however, the second it is taken from us, we cannot help but remember every laugh and smile and joyous moment the year had for us, and how hopeful we are that the next year will hold even close to as much promise as the year passed. The emotions run wild as the year comes to a close and we sit with the weight of the truth that is upon us. The academic year is gone. The next season, both literally and metaphorically, of our life is on its way. The long hours in labs and brutal nights completing group projects are the last things on our minds as we look back on a year of growth and development as a young adult that is unlike anything we have walked through before.
Yet, we continue to walk through the following year with the same attitude of taking for granted each bit of honest fun as we let the difficulties of this program embitter our young hearts to a point of wishing away this time. How come, given that we have walked through this exact scenario for upwards of 12 years now, we continue to let the time fly past us without breathing in every second for how precious it truly is? Realizing this about ourselves and the way we let the year fly past us should spark something in us desiring to change that, desiring to make what is to come be less about “getting it done” and more about “soaking it in."
What if we take on this next academic year with a new perspective? What if we let it truly sink in that it is fully in our power to make every hour of every day better than our last? What if we embrace joy and embrace the gift of the here and now, and make this second in time filled to overflowing with gratitude?
What if we got to the end of next academic year and realized for the first time that we weren’t experiencing these momentary ‘end of the year feels’ that make us look at the bright side of things for the first time since August? What if that moment of appreciating the joy of the year was simply a continuation of the exact attitude we walked with for the past 10 months?
What if we could look at the year and know that each day we woke up eager for joy and excitement instead of hearing that alarm and immediately bemoaning the busy schedule, passive aggressive group members, and boat loads of homework set before us. What if we gave happiness a fighting chance?
What if we let this next year be something filled with such positivity, that the young adult generation could make a significant positive impact on the communities around us for a change? What if we choose goodness?
How much sweeter our time spent growing in our professions might be if we embrace joy, make light of the circumstances outside of our control, and let those ‘end of the year feels’ be something we let paint our story for the entire year, instead of the last bittersweet days.
This is yet an idea, and it sits smack dab in the middle of current “end of the year feels” in my own life. Even so, there is promise to be had in a chance at choosing joy and at choosing goodness. I can’t help but think there is a little spark set with that promise. It is at our fingertips. We get to choose, so the only question left is: what will you choose?
