The One that Almost Stumped Me

I've attempted to write this post 4 times. Every time it's ended with me having an existential crisis and giving up. This is my final attempt at writing this. If this fails, I'll probably start a new blog and pretend this didn't happen. But I'm not giving up yet. I can do this.

So.

I'm done. I finished my year at Oxford. I completed my last paper on April 11th (I know...that was a while ago). 31 papers, 68,000 words, a handful of field trips to historic sites and numerous adventures around the UK, countless hours in the library and even more hours spent discussing, arguing and discovering Truth with friends and strangers, many a miles biked, many a streets explored, so much Beauty experienced, so much life lived.

My journey has come to an end. I've returned to Rochester. I've returned to real life where I sleep on the couch in the living room of my family's apartment, where I have to work 30 hours a week mindlessly scanning groceries so I can pay for college, where I visit college and no one has time to hang out because the American college system leaves so little time for students to just be. I've returned to having so much free time to read and read but with no one to discuss or debate or dissect what I'm reading with me. I left my dream come true—my life of constant Beauty and wonder—and woke up to this.

(Now you might understand why my attempts at this post have led to a number of existential crises...)

I haven't been able to complete this post before because to some degree I had convinced myself that this wasn't real, that this was simply a transition period, the cavern over which I was jumping to get from one dreamland to the next. I thought maybe if I just pretended it wasn't real then it wouldn't be so bad. I spent the last month doing that—pretending. And it hasn't really worked. But thankfully, I think I've stumbled upon a new way of doing things.

Something that became so real to me while I was at Oxford was the fact that things in this life are finite. They have an end, and more often than not, those endings come sooner than we would like. That time I spent living my dream—living in a magical city which had begun to feel like Home, living with Beautiful friends who I had fallen so deeply in love with—seemed to end so fast. It didn't seem fair how fast it ended. But that's how it is with all of life, even when I don't realize it. Moments are slipping away from me all the time. Things are ending, never to happen again, all the time. Never again will I be able to relive this moment of writing a blog post while sitting on the couch on a summery afternoon, listening to Ray Montagne and the lawn mower outside, waiting to meet with a dear friend for coffee. This moment will end as suddenly as it began; just like that it will slip away into the realm of reality which consists only of memories. That's how life works. When I think of life like that, it makes me want to live differently.

I've been spending a good amount of time lately with some friends of mine that I've known since middle school, preschool, and even from birth. These friends are the people I grew up with, the people that I grew into me with. We're all here again, reunited this summer in Rochester, Ny. And when I think of being with them, I'm faced with the reality that this may be the last time that all of us will be in the same place at the same time for a long while. When I think of how this moment, like all the others, will soon slip away from me, it makes me so thankful that I'm here in Rochester, working 30 hours a week, only in the mornings, so that I have all these evenings that I can spend with my dear friends. And it's the same when I think about this time I have living with my family, possibly the last extended time I'll have living in my parents' home.

I'll admit, this way of thinking doesn't mean I'm magically super happy now to be back here in Rochester. I'm still kinda struggling and I miss my life at Oxford so very much, but I think things are looking up.

When I think about all this, about trying to live Beautifully and be thankful for every moment that I have the privilege to experience, I'm reminded of a moment I had in Oxford with my Beautiful friend Megan. It was Megan's birthday and a couple of us girls had dressed up to go out for drinks and dancing (just a day in the life...). We had to walk into the city center from our house which was about 45 mins outside of the city, and as soon as we walked outside, I gave up hope of it being a good night. It was (what a surprise) raining, very hard. I felt really bad that it had to be raining on Megan's birthday, and I was trying to hide my disappointment and make sure Megan still had a good time. We were walking arm in arm, Megan and I, and I said to her "Sorry about the rain, bruv." She smiled at me, closed her eyes, tilted her face towards the sky, and breathed in. "I love the rain so much," she said to me. That look on her face, glistening with raindrops which were shinning with the orange glow of the street lamps, will stay in my memory forever. It was a moment that was transformed for me all because Megan chose to make it Beautiful.

So, here's to choosing to make this summer Beautiful. Here's to tilting my face to the rain and taking in all that is good about it. Here's to not letting the moments of this summer slip away without appreciating their hidden Beauty.