Excitement to Familiarity
Recognizing the existing uncertainty
BY DEVNA PANDA
As a first year at this university, I was as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as they come. In my mind, college was a place to focus solely on pursuing knowledge and becoming the person I so desperately wanted to be. I was singularly focused on developing a lifestyle that was wholly curated to who I am, and virtually nothing could deter me. Everything about this campus felt novel, each corner brimming with possibilities for the life I now had the opportunity to create.
During my freshman year, all of the seemingly mundane activities that made up my daily life– studying in Walter Library or walking across the Washington Avenue Bridge– felt so incredibly life-affirming. I was experiencing life in a way I never had before. All of the aspects of my (now somewhat exhausted) routine felt fresh and unconventional in contrast to the eighteen years I had spent in my hometown.
Only one year and many subpar exam scores later, I find that I have already grown relatively jaded and disillusioned. Washington Avenue, once the setting of my daydreams and a symbol of the beginning of my new life, is shrouded by an air of staleness. The brand new Nike Air Max Wrights that I bought my first month of college have become well-worn, the soles crusted with dirt.
This fantasy of the person I want to be feels indefinable and out of reach, a character that is constantly being written and rewritten. Embodying this persona is a complex never-ending exercise in self-improvement that I do not always have the energy to engage in. It’s strange; I have attained many of the things I had originally been seeking out– a genuine interest in my coursework, a balanced lifestyle, strong relationships, and a sense of adventure and purpose. And yet, oddly enough, I now miss the sensation of not having these things, of not having any idea how my college experience will play out.
Of course, I am merely describing the phenomenon of growing more accustomed to a new setting. Does familiarity have to be synonymous with mundanity? These thoughts are the inevitable byproduct of becoming settled and feeling at home in a place. And though, I do want to feel a sense of belonging, I miss the potential of my life to unfold in any direction.
Even still, I do not want to fall into the trap of constantly longing for whatever it is that I am not currently experiencing. I once saw a graphic that lives in my head rent-free. It was a picture of a shadowy figure standing on an arched bridge, staring down at its own reflection in the rippling water. Above the image in large-block lettering, was written: “You’re Standing on a Bridge Watching Yourself Go By”. This visual perfectly encapsulates what I am most afraid of. I do not want to be someone who allows time to pass them by because they are not present in the current moment. Wherever I am, I want to be wholly there.
As I navigate through the second year of my undergraduate education and beyond, I will have to continually remind myself of this desire. There is absolutely no point in comparing my current circumstances with the past because those periods of my life have already ended. I would much rather wholeheartedly embrace what I am experiencing right now than wistfully look back on a past whose negative aspects I am undoubtedly glossing over.
Moreover, I have to realize that there is still uncertainty in my life, and I have no idea how the plot of my life will thicken and thin over the next three years. I have to consider all the many things I have yet to do on this campus and in this city. Swing dancing at Wabasha Street Caves, performing at an open mic night at The Whole, or even watching the sunrise over the Mississippi.
To start, I might begin daydreaming about a different area of campus that I’m less familiar with– Delaware Street SE seems as good a place as any! And hey, maybe I’ll even buy a new pair of shoes to eventually sully with nasty frat house floors.