I think I've been really exasperated recently. I hate the question of what my biggest fear is, mostly because I hate questions that I have no answer to. But recently I've realized that my biggest fear (as in biggest — big, big) is not growing. Not that my fear isn't growing, but that I'm scared of not growing. The idea of not growing absolutely terrifies me, mostly because I'm surrounded by some of the most wonderful people in the world — all of which have managed to change immensely. My classes this quarter have been somewhat underwhelming, but interesting and necessary nevertheless. After my 'Introduction to Film Theory & Criticism' class last quarter, I think everything else is going to just always pale in comparison. It really changed my outlook on film and everything else I hold dear to me. It made me care about my passions differently, and it, without a doubt, helped me grow.
With budget cuts rising, financial aid dwindling and resources become scarce, I've become so much more conscious of my relation to my university. I want to get the most out of my education not just because I desire it, but simply because I pay for it. So when I find myself in an intellectual slump, there is no way it won't cause me to re-think everything around me. But I also think its horrible that I equate personal development with schoolwork, as if the two are mutual exclusive. I've talked to 5 different people about this very idea over just the last two weeks: how to separate our personal growth from academic expectations; personal desires from outside obligations. I shouldn't resent an education that is optional, that I've chosen and that I'm paying for. But I think, more often than not, I do. I look at a syllabus littered with assignments, and I think about all the things I'd rather be reading. I count the number of hours I spend researching papers I have to write, and consider all the experiences I could be having.
I chose not to go abroad because I didn't want to burden of schoolwork to interfere with time I'd rather spend immersing myself in new customs and total strangers. I'm becoming more and more happy with that decision as the year continues on. I think I need these full years spent in one place. The fact that every house I move into constantly feels fleeting (I decorate with the knowledge that they will, again, be packed up in 9 months) is enough to deal with, let alone interrupting it with a semester abroad. My twenty-first birthday gift from the parents is a big one: they said they'd fully fund a trip anywhere, anytime for however long. It's a huge thought, and an even bigger gift. I feel so lucky; it grants me the kind of peace I'm lacking daily sometimes. Supportive family, loving friends, financial freedom (knock on wood), endless opportunities, youth that (at least currently) feels both fleeting and everlasting. So why do I feeling like I'm missing something? Why can't I shake a feeling of emptiness that seems to linger?
I immersed myself in a party last night where 90% of the people in the room were strangers. Spent my time going up to random unknowns asking them what their deal was, attempting to connect with the various party goers.
Of the 7 most noteworthy people I met, 5 of them came from divorced families. Go figure.
