TRADITIONAL timepieces are quite deceptive. They lead us to the impression that time runs in a circular path; that it goes through a cyclic pattern, like phases of the moon, or seasons?recurrent and mundane. And so we instinctively set our lives in harmony with our system of time.
I hate to admit it, but I too have been caught in this cycle of tediousness. Looking back, I realize that I spent a good fraction of my college life counting hours, anticipating the week’s end and mourning silently as another week started. I was dragging myself to one classroom after another; wringing strength of will from the idea that I had to attend to this lecture so I could finish my course and get a job, and (as most of us would like to assume,) achieve all the great things I was destined for.
My mind was in a hurry, but the rest of me was just waiting for things to end. During that time, education seemed like a task I had to endure. This is likely to happen after a few semesters of unit-filled labs and lectures. Students become mured to rote and resort to just going by the book to obtain good grades and get it over with.
We tend to take things for granted when we get too accustomed with its presence. But education is a privilege, not just a chore to be accomplished. We must step out of our mindset; try to look at things differently, be purposefully aware of the vastness of the things that we are yet to understand, and discover how much we need to learn. Then life would seem exciting after all.
Make most of every opportunity to learn—from the people around you, your environment, even from the seemingly irrelevant life stories of your professor. Steal little lessons from them while you can.
But do not to hurry. Everything will end (and begin) in the proper time. So until then, bear with the traffic jams, listen to your professor’s jokes, put a little more heart into your homework—learn, live deliberately, and embrace all the awkwardness that will come with life. Because before you even have the chance to grasp the idea, you too will be in your academic gowns, waiting for your turn to be called up on stage.
***
I had enough time to make up for the days I wasted in cyclic waiting. I had the chance to make the most out of college, and for that I am relieved.
The Varsitarian played a great role in my worthwhile stay in college. For three years, it served me experiences that no formal education could provide—a primer perhaps of the world beyond college. It gave me roles that I could not (and would not) have dreamed of as an ordinary student. My college life was spiced with a smorgasbord of people; I have been blessed by relationships that have been tested by toils and thrills.
The ‘V’ had opened my mind; it placed on view how vast the world is compared to myself, but provided me with the security and the assurance that I would someday grow into something larger. Forever, I am thankful. And because of this and of everything I’ve been through, I will keep moving forward.
Once a ‘V’ staffer, always a ‘V’ staffer!
