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Photo courtesy of Design in Reflection
Thursday, January 20, 2005
This Is It
College is a life lived in short bursts. You keep promising yourself that if you can just get through midterms, just through this paper, just through finals week, everything will be all right. And it is, because Christmas break or summer vacation is just around the corner. And then you rub elbows with your family and work a boring job and start missing your own space, and soon you're promising yourself that if you can just get through a few more weeks, you'll be back at school, on your own turf. And so it goes, semester after semester, until suddenly, surprise! You made it through one more finals week and it was the last.
Standing there you look back and back, and suddenly realize you've lived life peeping around corners. As a kid waiting for Christmas, for a birthday, for that slumber party. Then in highschool, for that summer vacation with endless empty hours. Then college, and then suddenly, this is it.
Possibly the most terrifying words in the English language. As C.S. Lewis put it, life is "term, holiday, term, holiday, and then work, work, work till you die." There is something apalling about the repetitive infinity the future promises.
But I'm not quite there yet. I have one more corner to peek around. And it's not because I don't like my job that I'm looking forward to the time when I can stay home and just take care of my kids. But I'm suddenly realizing that I've never done anything day in, day out for as long as the two or three years I plan to hold this job. I feel like I'm gazing across a vast plain to an even more illimitable ocean. I want to get there, but I'm more than a little afraid of the time when there are no more corners to peek around, when I say to myself 'this is it' and mean it: this is it, this is what all my life has been coming to, and I'll go on doing this for years and years and years, twenty or thirty or forty of them, depending on how many children we have and how late the last one is born. I wonder if I'll be able to settle down, or if I'll keep promising myself some kind of change, peeking round the corner to when the baby weans, finishes teething, is potty-trained, when the new baby comes and I'm not pregnant anymore...
I don't think I can face this, any this, being it.
College is a life lived in short bursts. You keep promising yourself that if you can just get through midterms, just through this paper, just through finals week, everything will be all right. And it is, because Christmas break or summer vacation is just around the corner. And then you rub elbows with your family and work a boring job and start missing your own space, and soon you're promising yourself that if you can just get through a few more weeks, you'll be back at school, on your own turf. And so it goes, semester after semester, until suddenly, surprise! You made it through one more finals week and it was the last.
Standing there you look back and back, and suddenly realize you've lived life peeping around corners. As a kid waiting for Christmas, for a birthday, for that slumber party. Then in highschool, for that summer vacation with endless empty hours. Then college, and then suddenly, this is it.
Possibly the most terrifying words in the English language. As C.S. Lewis put it, life is "term, holiday, term, holiday, and then work, work, work till you die." There is something apalling about the repetitive infinity the future promises.
But I'm not quite there yet. I have one more corner to peek around. And it's not because I don't like my job that I'm looking forward to the time when I can stay home and just take care of my kids. But I'm suddenly realizing that I've never done anything day in, day out for as long as the two or three years I plan to hold this job. I feel like I'm gazing across a vast plain to an even more illimitable ocean. I want to get there, but I'm more than a little afraid of the time when there are no more corners to peek around, when I say to myself 'this is it' and mean it: this is it, this is what all my life has been coming to, and I'll go on doing this for years and years and years, twenty or thirty or forty of them, depending on how many children we have and how late the last one is born. I wonder if I'll be able to settle down, or if I'll keep promising myself some kind of change, peeking round the corner to when the baby weans, finishes teething, is potty-trained, when the new baby comes and I'm not pregnant anymore...
I don't think I can face this, any this, being it.