Advice from an alumna

Bet you’d thought you’d seen the last of me, huh?

To be honest — me too. I haven’t written anything since my last Senioritis column was published, just about a year ago. I didn’t expect to be writing anytime soon — hell, maybe not ever again.

But life has a way of surprising you. Well, surprising all of us, I suppose.

2020 was not the year I expected everyone’s collective doomsday theories to come true. And although it’s hard to process, and some days are better than others, I think it’s important to say, just once —

This is not the end of your journey. It’s just a pause.

That’s it. A pause.

I am aware that I am writing from a place of privilege — I have the ability to work remotely, I am no longer situated in a major city, and I can spiral whenever I feel like it in the privacy of an otherwise-safe and secure household.

If you’re still looking for a job, or you’re an essential worker, or you find that your livelihood is threatened in some way, these already-frightening times are likely even worse.

My ruminations cannot hope to cover the full expanse of experiences that everyone is going through. I cannot even begin to scratch the surface of it, nor am I egotistical enough to think that my advice will speak to everyone.

But after about a year as an alum and about six weeks of that year in quarantine, here’s what I have to say:

Crisis has an uncanny way of making reality seem very simple. It forces the mind to focus on just a select few things.

As for me — well, I’ve been thinking about death a lot these days. Sorry, I know that’s a bit dark, but death just seems so pervasive, so all-encompassing as of late. It’s hard for even a day to go by without hearing of some tragedy or the other. Mostly, though, it seems to have highlighted the transience of it all. Of how little time we really have.

Life isn’t just. It’s merely relentless. All we can ever do is our very best.

As such, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I want to live my life. About what I truly want from it, what I’d like to look back upon when I enter my twilight years. I’d advise you to do the same.

You have to craft the life you want — or, at very least, one you can live with.

But now, to contradict myself for a moment — you may not know what it is you want, at least right off the bat. And you should learn to be okay with that, too, however uncomfortable that may be.

Your first year after graduation will be a lot of learning. What you like, what you don’t like. What you’re good at, what you’re downright terrible at. You might be asked to work thankless hours, and you might feel like the youngest person in the room. But through all of those experiences, you will learn how to be a true adult, in all senses of the word.

I look back at some of my old columns, where I expressed some rather misplaced anxieties about just that, and I have to laugh. No amount of worrying would have changed the reality I have now. Everyone goes through this phase of learning — and the human mind is far more adaptable than we ever give it credit for.

Adaptability, however, comes in part from you who are, but also from who you surround yourselves with. So I’d urge all of you—in these times and in all times—to keep your friends close. There’s no easier time to make friends than in college, and I can assure you — you will never get an opportunity like it again. Adulthood can be a surprisingly lonely time. You want to have people around you who you care for, and who you trust to see you at your highs and lows alike.

Judging your own highs and lows can be hard, these days. Reality feels a bit warped. Human interactions have moved almost entirely indoors and online. Going outside every now and then to deafening silence makes it feel as if we’re all living in one enormous simulation. It all feels a bit — well, it all feels a bit unreal.

To that, I have to say — protect your energy, your time, your body, and your mind. Focus on the real.

Social media is not real. It’s merely a collection of the ever-conflicting vagaries of the world around you. Interesting, even entertaining at times, but not a reflection of reality. Not even a little.

Be selfish. Your attention and time are precious resources. Spend them on what feels truly worth it.

And in a time when the world feels more polarized than ever, for any number of reasons — embrace nuance. The world is not black and white. And neither are people. You’ll be amazed at how they surprise you.

Graduation presents an opportunity to reassess. To evaluate all that you’ve done, and focus on where you want to go. Your adult life, with all its messiness and imperfection and wonder, is closer than ever. So go get it.

To the class of 2020 — Congratulations on all you’ve accomplished. It may feel like we’re all a bit in the gutter at times, but remember — the only place from here is up. Get out there, dare to gaze at the stars, and make us all proud.

Per aspera, ad astra.