It’s Day 40. Wow. The time has really flown. I’ve pre-scheduled this post (I’m in Atlanta at the moment!) and will write a longer reflection on the Worry-Free Challenge when I return home. I wrote this post mid-September 2014, and I think it’s only fitting to post it now as the semester has drawn to a close.
10 Things I Want To Remember About Senior Year
1. The thrill of moving off-campus and living (almost) by myself for the first time. The excitement and nerves the first few days. How proud I was cooking my first few meals.
2. How much I’ve grown since freshman year. My first semester here was exciting, stressful, and full of pressure I put on myself. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I know in five years, I’ll look back and laugh at my silly self for thinking I know so much more. I want to remember senior year as slowing down, breathing in, taking time to assert myself and to stand up for the right things. I want to remember not being a pushover.
3. I want to remember working my ass off and falling asleep, exhausted, so grateful for my quiet room. I want to remember looking on at some of my best work of my college career in journalism. I want to remember pushing my limits and taking risks.
4. I want to remember all the times friends and family have pulled me out into their circle and said, through their hugs or sitting through hours of talking, “Hey, I love you. You are a valuable person and your accomplishments do not make up who you are.”
5. I want to remember all the chats over late-night tea with my dad. I want to remember the stories he’s told me hundreds of times about being an entrepreneur, of not being afraid to fail, that there’s no shame in working hard at something difficult, and failure does not mean you will never succeed. I want to remember drilling anatomy with him, of us laughing over stupid mnemonics, of me saying, “The future is terrifying,” and of him saying, “You’ve been at the top your whole life. I have no doubts that you will succeed at whatever you want to do.”
6. I want to remember all the times when I called my mom and vented, and she listened and gave me the truth. I want to be grateful for her help, for helping me live where I am today, for supporting me and letting me do my own thing. I want to thank her for inheriting that stubbornness, that classic Irish bulldog that is in me, however faint. I need that spirit now. I want to remember: “This too shall pass.”
7. I want to remember quashing my fear and taking risks. I want to remember throwing myself out there and pitching myself. I want to remember being proud of everything I’ve accomplished. I want to remember this belief in myself that has never felt so concrete before.
8. I want to remember this year as a healthy year. I want to look back and say, “Hey. You really took care of your body this year. You put your health first and your older self will thank you.” I want to remember making a conscious effort to breathe, meditate and be thankful every day, because the health of your mind is just as important as your body.
9. I want to remember time spent with those I love. Regardless of where we are in the future, whether we’re together or apart, I want to remember everything with laughter and grace. I want to remember staying up till four a.m. being goofy, hanging out and playing Kan Jam, looking at farm animals and staring in awe at the countryside. I want to remember the sunsets that are so beautiful I want to squeeze my eyes shut and make me remember the first time I walked home with my first group of college friends. That sunset made me feel like I belonged here. I want to remember when my friend visited and we drove through the mountains, talking about life and how fleeting and scary your 20s are. I want to remember making stir frys with my boyfriend in the wee hours of the morning, of waking up to the sound of pouring rain next to him, and being grateful for the bond we’ve shared, being so thankful that someone has seen into who I am and still loves me.
10. More than anything, I want to remember all the good times. I want to have stories to tell my kids someday about my amazing college experience. And it can’t be amazing unless I make it happen…so this year, I want to remember making it happen.
Day 40 Mantra: Make it happen.