I am the type of person who has to-do lists and reminders for everything in my personal, academic and work life. I balance my time evenly among my friends, family and relationships, often leaving too little time for myself.
As a college student, especially one living with roommates, it can be difficult to find alone time and reflect on your emotions or goals. Many may even be avoiding these fundamental moments by packing their schedule or creating constant distractions. There is an assumption that by keeping busy, one is accomplishing enough. With a heavy agenda, there is less room for doubt to weave into one’s mind, but there is also less room for personal growth and transformation. I am guilty of unintentionally forgetting the value of a moment of quiet — a moment to reconnect with yourself.
I recently realized that, amid the chaos of a life with roommates and a life where we are meant to be building toward our futures each day, the different entities of my being rarely allow me to accept that sometimes, there is no answer. This problem plagues not only me, but many of the people around me.
I watched my beloved suitemate have more than one existential crisis as she second-guessed the path she was on, wondering if pre-med was really for her. I witnessed my other suitemate discover that she didn’t actually like research and wanted to work toward a new career. All I can offer, not only to my friends but to anyone second-guessing the path they are on, is that we are not going to be in this in-between stage forever. We all want to be so ahead in life that we often forget to appreciate this vital time where ends are hanging loose and each day is an opportunity for furthering our passions.
Soon enough, you will be 26 with a full-time job, a consistent routine and a home, and you will miss the late nights with your roommates and the new faces you had the privilege to meet. You’ll miss the times when you didn’t know what the future had in store for you.
A contemplative and utterly confusing movie, “Everything Everywhere All at Once” unravels your reality and patches it back together as it takes you through a middle-aged Chinese American woman’s journey of running her failing laundromat, salvaging her personal relationships and saving the multiverse. The film left me thinking about the intangible timelines of our dwindling lives. I wondered whether the ways I spend my time are worthwhile, or if I should continue listening to the overwhelming part of me that whispers that there is more to do. I pondered the existential dread that accompanies being such a small, almost futile force amid the never-ending workings of the world. I searched for the silver lining between humble beginnings and callous endings.
Movie after movie and book after book remind us of one simple fact — we are human. They chide us, telling us that we can’t succeed in everything we do. They soothe that there is always time to change and grow, and they encourage that love is the answer. With limited control, I’ve embraced the mindset that we should bask in the in-between.
The daughter in “Everything Everywhere All at Once,” who felt as though her life had no direction and her efforts had no meaning, said, “not a single moment will go by without every other universe screaming for your attention. Never fully there. Just a lifetime of fractured moments, contradictions, and confusion. With only a few specks of time where anything actually makes any sense.”
This is such a truthful depiction of what being a young adult can feel like. With so many different possibilities, it can start to feel overwhelming, to the point where none of the directions feel appealing. When you attempt to look into the future, and it feels more like a coin-flip game with your happiness, well-being and security at stake, letting the screaming universes infiltrate doubt into your mind becomes second nature, but learning how to live among the noise is how we will build our futures unwaveringly.
The truth is, we will miss the specks of time when nothing makes sense, because those are the times that we can make anything and everything out of all of the possibilities. They are when we can establish new and old parts of who we are. These moments when nothing makes sense help reestablish the connections that we have with ourselves — with our growing understanding of how we carry ourselves and what we want to prioritize in our lives. Ultimately, without confusion, there would be no revelation.
Another facet where uncertainty breeds is the unnecessary yet very real sense of impending doom that accompanies the ticking of the psychological “social clock.” In psychology, the social clock is “a time-sensitive roadmap of societal norms and cultural expectations in an individual’s life, such as securing employment, getting married, or starting a family.” This clock is why we feel stressed, thinking we are behind our peers. However, given that this generation has a later expected age of marriage than any other, with nearly nine in 10 people remaining single by the age of 25, we should get used to the idea that societal norms are changing.
Most importantly, we should get used to the idea that there isn’t actually a specific timeline you need to meet to have everything accomplished. If everything were perfectly planned out for you, then there would be no freedom or excitement in the choices that you eventually grow to make.
With the semester coming to an end, remember to be grateful for this past year of exploration and look forward to the years to come, when even more possibilities will present themselves to you. Enjoy this time of instability and of being selfish about the standards to which you hold yourself. Don’t worry about making the wrong decision, because there are a million timelines where you thrive no matter what choices you make.
There are an infinite number of places you could be, and there are so many places you will go, but right now, you are here.
So while you are, don’t force yourself into an idealized box of your own creation, where you might miss out on an utterly confusing and all-encompassing moment that becomes monumental to who you are.
Myah Meunier is a freshman majoring in English.
Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial.