The Start of Something New
written August 19th, 2021
…the start of something NEW. The energy of this new semester is palpable. It’s kinetic. The particles of my being are just bouncing around in excitement awaiting its beginning. Attending convocation today, I felt myself let out an exhale I hadn’t even felt myself holding onto. Several speakers reminded us, “take a moment, breathe this in.” I allowed myself to gasp in a hearty inhale, eager to drink up the buzz I felt percolating through the thousands of us gathered in Alumni Park. As I exhaled, I let it all go. The zoom fatigue. The imposter syndrome. The year of feeling like I was just passing for a college student; the isolation of being a pseudo, virtual scholar.
Multiple speakers echoed the message, “we are here to welcome you.” I almost teared up on site. It felt so good to hear those words. To deeply feel myself becoming a part of a school I am so proud to attend. The message of worthiness is one I intend on continuing to foster within myself. Even today in my daily devotional from Mark Nepo’s The Book of Awakening, he writes about the privilege of experiencing sadness, and how doing so is not evidence of our unworthiness. He writes,
“So often, we war against sadness as if it were an unwanted germ, and pine after happiness like it were some promised Eden, whose gate is keyed to the one secret flaw we need to rectify in order to be worthy.” But, he continues, “to suffer means to feel deeply…it is the capacity to feel keenly that reveals the meaning in our experiences…we cannot drink only of happiness or sorrow and have life remain life.”
Last year, in my moments of sadness and/or isolation, I felt as though my feeling in such a way meant I was doing something wrong. “If I could just get over school being online, I’d be so much happier,” I’d catch myself thinking. My roommate and I would lament over our rigorous course-loads and how we felt like we were the only ones who couldn’t keep up. We would drag ourselves on a run, meditate, cook up some nourishing food and hope for the best amidst our midterm weeks. Battling imposter syndrome while strictly attending classes online is a tricky thing. You don’t actually have much evidence that anyone is working harder than you, and yet, it is so easy to compare yourself to others and convince yourself they are all doing better than you.
The breakthrough moment occurs when you stop viewing happiness as an end and everything else as a means to it.
I’m quite certain completing my calculus homework never brought me joy, but when I stopped expecting every assignment to ignite my soul on fire, I treated them as ends in and of themself. Tasks to be present for, complete, and release when over with. Suffering through my Spanish lecture didn’t leave me feeling particularly peachy, but I did what I needed to do. Allowing myself to rest didn’t always feel productive, but it served a purpose. Life is largely composed of these in-between moments. It’s not all peak and it’s not all valley—there’s arduous climbs and restorative downhills, too. How anti-climatic would it feel to bypass any low? If life is strictly peaks, it’s still a flatline. Without both highs AND lows, you plateau.
Discomfort promotes growth. Sadness offers the necessary contrast allowing us to appreciate happiness. When living the moment, we don’t treat our feelings as means to an end. They’re energy in motion. They’re teachers. They’re an end, until the next moment rolls around with another temporary end. They’re impermanent. They’re not representative of our worthiness.
We cannot bypass hardship without clipping our own wings.
To feel deeply is to pay attention. To be present. I think that’s why I so appreciated the reminder to breathe today. It connected life force to that moment. One mindful breath and I felt so awakened to this seminal moment of my life. All the struggles of the previous 18 months—for a moment—evaporated, and…dare I say…felt…worth it?
It wasn’t suffering through a pandemic that served as a means to this joy. Nor was it the innumerable hours of my life dedicated to earning me a seat at such a ceremony that served as a means to this end of happiness. Suffering is not a prerequisite for joy. But, having endured each challenge and heartbreak I felt especially grateful to be present at such a powerful celebration.
To quote from the very sophisticated movie, Hannah Montana: The Movie,
“Life’s a Climb, but the view is great.”
The peaks sure offer a beautiful view, but it’s how we crawl and climb out of those valleys that shapes and strengthens us. Appreciating the trek doesn’t take away from the magic of the view; if you’re only focused on the peak, you miss the majesty lining the way.
Today, a definitive, epic peak, I saw myself this time last year, scraping by. I felt so proud of her, in both her struggling and perseverance. Even as I drank up the peace and perspective one feels at the mountaintop, I felt myself eagerly gearing up for the next climb: this school year. I look forward to struggling and to cruising. To going from breathless tiredness to speechless awe-fulness. To trudging along and to pausing to let my soul catch up to my body.
Filled with a mix of trepidation and optimistic eagerness, I have no expectations for this year, just excitement. I am sure it will exceed any expectations I would have had, anyways—peaks and valleys included.