It’s three completely different things. I am not where I once was, nor is where I am where I want to be. I suppose thats the way of journey and self discovery is trying to reach that sacred place of content. Nirvana. Happiness as if it were the destination.
I have worked tirelessly for the past four months and as of late it all feels fruitless. It was a rough second semester at University, struggling with a chronic illness and competing against 300 other students all in the same program willing to push you down when you look like you’re tripping. My success is now marked in terms of a whole, an average of these bright young minds, who have much more energy to study than I. Suddenly, doing my best is not enough. I feel like I’m grasping at straws trying to get enough leverage to just get through these next few weeks and pass my courses.
I hope.
I haven’t had time to worry about myself. Or indulge in the simple things like reading or writing for pleasure. It’s been all academic. A part of me was lost in those long nights of studying. As if the tests sucked the ingenuity and creativity from my essence itself. Somewhere along the way I lost myself.
I’m lost. And being lost is not the place I want to be.
I want to thrive as a human, with dignity and grace. I want to be content with myself physically and emotionally. I want to know that I am doing my best and that it is enough. Because when you’re lost. Is it enough?
Is it ever enough?
My English professor told me at the end of the term:
Keep reading. Keep writing. Keep being you
But who am I? Who am I outside of these trivial books and courses about calculus and mechanics? We grow with change. We change in the face of adversary. And I think its due time that I grant myself the satisfaction of discovering myself once again.
I will keep being me. Whoever that is.
The Infamous Generation 