I am on the bus again. This time, there is no one who is thought provoking talking to me, but there doesn’t need to be.
Now, originally I had the plan of doing my lab work, but I soon realized that my brain needed a break, so I began watching a movie, “My Oxford Year” — 10/10 by the way.
I soon realized this was not giving me the relief that I craved so badly. So, I shut off my phone and began staring off into the window, alone with my thoughts.
I looked out at the fall foliage slowly creeping in on us in New England — and you don’t need me describing the leaves to know how beautiful it is. However, that’s just the surface.
Underneath it all, these trees must be extremely old — or at least older than me. It took time for them to become so beautiful, for their roots to grow strong and sow their seed deep into the earth.
Our lives, too, take time to fully become our own.
Just like a tree has distinct leaves that grow and shed each year, we spend our lives in trial and error. However, unlike us, a tree can’t get ahead of itself.
So, what’s the rush? Nothing I’ve ever rushed has turned out great. No, it always ends up half done and not quite there — if you know what I mean.
Everything remotely meaningful in my life has taken time, whether it was spent in sorrow, pain or utter delight. It has all been cultivated with various experiences — some good, some bad. But it took time.
The world won’t end if I don’t work on my biology lab in this cramped, rundown bus — no offense to the bus company. Simply sitting and being alone with my true thoughts is also a part of my trial process.
The relaxation we so deeply desire is found in simply unplugging and making space for our actual thoughts. We have to make space — not just for the things we learn in class or have to study for an exam, but also for naturally occurring thoughts that get pushed out to make room for the ones society deems “useful.”
When did we lose track of what was borrowed and what actually belonged to us?
Nobody blames you. It is extremely easy to constantly absorb the world instead of sitting back to enjoy it.
Lately, at 19 years old and stuck somewhere between being a teen and an adult, my life seems to be flashing before my eyes.
I mourn the moments in childhood I’ll never have again. My parents will never be that young, nor will my grandparents return from death to drink tea and eat cookies with me one more time.
Slowly, like the leaves of a tree, my past falls and I am left bare, exposed to the uncertainty of my future.
Whether I like it or not, that is reality. I have to accept it, for not doing so causes greater pain. So I give in to this life and aim to get the best out of each experience, even if that includes being crammed against a stranger who smells strongly of cheap cologne.
I will never be in this moment, quietly sitting on the bus again — well, at least not until Thanksgiving. But each one of these instances is and will be unique. On some rides, I meet people, but in this case, I reflect and choose to acknowledge my existence.
I am alive, and so are you, but somewhere along the line we forget that. Let’s aim to remember.
After I am done writing this, I will sit back and be bored. I will think about silly things that don’t make sense to anyone but me, yet I will be the freest I’ve ever been in that moment.
Be bored more, because when you overload yourself with work, you lose the space where curiosity can play.
Being alive doesn’t only entail endless adventures, messy love lives and crazy scandals. Sometimes life is about trying to take deeper breaths, enjoying silence and knowing that what you want is on the way — it just takes time.
Growing up took time, so let your dreams, efforts and experiences grow up as well.
Be deliberate, like a tree wilting in autumn, preparing itself for a new season.
Till we meet again,
N.