The power was out and it looked as if the rain would start at any moment, but it was still spring and still warm enough to choose between pants and shorts and so I wasn’t complaining. John Mayer played and told me to say what I need to say and so I didn’t rush to the gym, I sat in my bed and wrote in Microsoft Word without the Internet and the pomegranate candle burned. It was peaceful, not finals-drenched clarity.
With summer vast approaching — and no sign of concrete plans for those four months yet nailed down — we, I, tend to find ourselves basket cases. There is the grind of finals, the anxiety of moving, FOMO (which I just learned to be fear of missing out) about those who get to stay in Ann Arbor over the summer, awe that the semester has flown by, sadness and excitement for beaches and old friends. It’s a time for reflection on the year past and a time to evaluate what comes next. We are in college but suddenly we’re almost not in college anymore. We have four, maybe two semesters left in this wonderfully weird town, so we can count down the days til summer or hope that May never comes but something is going to give soon. Last night, I sat in bed and turned on Netflix like I usually do, but instead, I turned to the website I’ve been working on bit by bit, looked through it and started to add some of the writing to the blank pages I’d created.
For a long time, I’ve thought about the E-portfolio prompt and shook my head because it wasn’t due for weeks or months and I’d probably never get it done anyways … “It’s not going to happen.” But now it is the end of the year, the point at which we can reflect on all the time wasted (this could have been long done after all) or to evaluate ourselves, to figure out where we’re going. I choose to do and to go forward because writing is reflecting but the wind is pushing us forward into summer. My E-portfolio will get done — and I might even like the finished product — and this semester will come to a close and it will be summer, summer without classes, summer filled with longing to be back and longing to stay with feet firmly planted in hot sand. I’m not sure which longing will prevail but I do know this: writing is reflecting and if nothing else, I will take the time to sit with my feet in the sand and I will write — on paper or on my computer with a good pair of sunglasses on — and I will figure out where I’ve been and where I’m going. As for my mediation project, well that’s another story and I might need a pina colada before tackling that elephant in the room.
Take all of your so-called problems, better put em in quotations.
Thanks, John Mayer, I think I just might.