In 23 days I am no longer "undergrad nomad." This is not only because I'll be on a plane headed back to the States, but because I will be finished with my undergrad. Completely finished. Wrapping my head around this idea is terrifying. I think, sometimes, when we're in college we pretend there isn't a real world out there. But, guess what? Hey, Grace, there's a real world out there. As I head into my last few weeks of college, I think it's about time to reflect on what college has taught me and where in the world I am heading next. But, first, a story.
When I was nine-years-old, I went to see the Russian circus while in Mongolia. I watched, wide-eyed, as men stuck their heads in the mouths of lions and tigers. Trapeze artists swung, gracefully, dangerously, through the air with amazing strength. A tight-rope walker steadily made her way across the rope at a frightening height. A man cartwheeled his way onto the stage and began to juggle everything from fire to knives. A young girl in a sparkly suit stood on a box and began to bend her body in ways that shouldn't be possible. It was all beyond phenomenal. As I'm sure all children do, I spent the next week planning out ways I could run away with the circus. Eventually, I decided it was infeasible. I came to the conclusion that my Russian was far below par (not that I didn't have any particularly circus-worthy talents). I gave up that dream and moved on to others that were, given, equally infeasible.
As I begin the career-search and dream-pursuit, I have begun reflecting on all my old childhood dreams. Ballerina. Circus performer. FBI agent. Astronaut. Egyptologist. Actress. Secretary of State. Awhile ago I realized that every decision I have made has meant I was closing a door on other decisions. When I quit ballet lessons, I said "no" to being a ballerina. When I stopped taking science courses, I said "no" to being an astronaut. This pattern is something with which we are all familiar. And sometimes, these decisions affects us more than we expect. However, today I have realized some wonderful news. I'm finally ready for the circus.
It turns out that all this time, as I was struggling through my undergraduate, I was actually being prepared for the circus. And here's how:
Juggler: University taught me that, in life, there will always be multiple things you will have to do at the same time. It is simply unavoidable. We can choose to either be overwhelmed by each as they fall down towards us, or we can choose to focus on each as they fall and pass them from hand to hand and back up again. I know very well that it can feel like "when it rains, it pours." But, I also know that life continues on. And we must learn how to cope with whatever comes our way. And, just like a juggler at a circus, we learn to get through each one with a smile on our face.
Trapeze Artist: For me, this is the skill of handling seemingly terrible situations with a grace that seems impossible. It is smiling and clinging with strength to the important things in life. It is trusting the people in your life to catch you when you fall. It is enjoying the moment even though the landing is uncertain. Sometimes life hits us with really hard things to handle. During college, I dealt with the death of my grandfather, close relationships ending, and having to relearn who and what I could trust. These things were really painful, but these growing pains are so important. I have learned to cling to my faith, my family, and my friends. I think, now, I'm ready to be a trapeze artist.
Lion-tamer: There will always be beasts in life. Seemingly, terrible creatures that want to rip you apart. They scare you, try to make you run away. But this is when we learn to stand our ground. Just like the lion-tamer, we learn ways to befriend the beast. By the end of your time with the animal, you're able to be friends. Maybe it's still a guarded relationship, but you are braver because of it. These big, bad beasts usually are nothing like what we originally thought anyway. Everyone becomes a lion-tamer at some point or another.
Tight-rope Walker: I've never been very good at balancing. I took gymnastics for a little while as a kid, and the balance beam and I never really got along. I would stand carefully, perfectly in tune with the world, and then I would take a step. I would promptly fall. I eventually realized that my problem wasn't with my actual balance. It was that I allowed myself to become distracted by everything around me. University has taught me how to walk along the straight and narrow. During this time, I have learned how to keep putting one foot in front of another while focusing on the finish. We balance life by seeing what is important and going after it.
Contortionist: The flexibility shown by contortionists is something so beyond what we can understand. They move in ways that look as though every bone and ligament in their body has broken or snapped. They are bent and twisted like an old tree, but they don't break. They are smiling and beautiful despite their crooked forms. The past three and a half years have taught me to be flexible because life has bent me. We must embrace what comes our way even when we are at our breaking point.
After further reflection, I have decided that life is a circus. So, maybe, just maybe, college has prepared me for life. I'm not as smart as I thought I was when I went in, and I'm definitely a lot poorer. But, I think I am better prepared than I was three and a half years ago. So, just like nine-year-old Gracie, I'm once again excited to run away and join the circus.
As I begin the career-search and dream-pursuit, I have begun reflecting on all my old childhood dreams. Ballerina. Circus performer. FBI agent. Astronaut. Egyptologist. Actress. Secretary of State. Awhile ago I realized that every decision I have made has meant I was closing a door on other decisions. When I quit ballet lessons, I said "no" to being a ballerina. When I stopped taking science courses, I said "no" to being an astronaut. This pattern is something with which we are all familiar. And sometimes, these decisions affects us more than we expect. However, today I have realized some wonderful news. I'm finally ready for the circus.
It turns out that all this time, as I was struggling through my undergraduate, I was actually being prepared for the circus. And here's how:
Juggler: University taught me that, in life, there will always be multiple things you will have to do at the same time. It is simply unavoidable. We can choose to either be overwhelmed by each as they fall down towards us, or we can choose to focus on each as they fall and pass them from hand to hand and back up again. I know very well that it can feel like "when it rains, it pours." But, I also know that life continues on. And we must learn how to cope with whatever comes our way. And, just like a juggler at a circus, we learn to get through each one with a smile on our face.
Lion-tamer: There will always be beasts in life. Seemingly, terrible creatures that want to rip you apart. They scare you, try to make you run away. But this is when we learn to stand our ground. Just like the lion-tamer, we learn ways to befriend the beast. By the end of your time with the animal, you're able to be friends. Maybe it's still a guarded relationship, but you are braver because of it. These big, bad beasts usually are nothing like what we originally thought anyway. Everyone becomes a lion-tamer at some point or another.
Tight-rope Walker: I've never been very good at balancing. I took gymnastics for a little while as a kid, and the balance beam and I never really got along. I would stand carefully, perfectly in tune with the world, and then I would take a step. I would promptly fall. I eventually realized that my problem wasn't with my actual balance. It was that I allowed myself to become distracted by everything around me. University has taught me how to walk along the straight and narrow. During this time, I have learned how to keep putting one foot in front of another while focusing on the finish. We balance life by seeing what is important and going after it.
Contortionist: The flexibility shown by contortionists is something so beyond what we can understand. They move in ways that look as though every bone and ligament in their body has broken or snapped. They are bent and twisted like an old tree, but they don't break. They are smiling and beautiful despite their crooked forms. The past three and a half years have taught me to be flexible because life has bent me. We must embrace what comes our way even when we are at our breaking point.
After further reflection, I have decided that life is a circus. So, maybe, just maybe, college has prepared me for life. I'm not as smart as I thought I was when I went in, and I'm definitely a lot poorer. But, I think I am better prepared than I was three and a half years ago. So, just like nine-year-old Gracie, I'm once again excited to run away and join the circus.
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