So, I live in Georgia now.
153.4 square feet in total, 76.7 I can rightfully call my own, at least for the time being. Which is, in a way, one of my favorite things about this whole experience. Expect a room tour in the future.
There are a lot of things I love and a few I would change about being in college, but I’m expecting to come to terms with all of it within the next month. Overall, I’m extremely happy: I’ve met and connected with wonderful people, I’m getting involved in the arts as well as some business ventures, I’m keeping in touch with my loved ones, and I’m learning how to manage myself more independently than I ever have before. I think what surprises me the most about my initial experience here, though, is how much I’ve learned outside of the lecture hall. Don’t get me wrong, Mom&Dad–I’m definitely getting a lot out of my classes too. But I am learning a whole lot about myself.
One of the things that hit me hardest just this week is the fact that I wasn’t making enough of an effort to get what I wanted out of my experience here. I keep telling people (and myself) “As soon as I settle in, ________.” But what does “settling in” mean to me? I took a step back a couple of days ago and realized that the long term goals I have set out for myself were taking a backseat to my desire to have a seamless experience in my first month of college. On top of this, my old friend Writer’s Block returned to haunt me. Where are my blogs? What content could I create? I’m in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people and a wardrobe downsized by a huge margin. What could I possibly provide? These are the questions that have been plaguing me since late August.
I’m incredibly thankful for where I’ve found myself. God has provided for me wonderfully (lowkey quoting my character in the fall play, oops) and I feel like I’ve “made it,” in a sense. Achieved some sort of unspoken goal of mine that has hung on my shoulders for a long time. Proven something to myself just thanks to the fact that I successfully moved on to the next stage in my life. Something like that. But with every goal achieved, a new one presents itself at a distance further than the previous had been. Chasing the next dream is a never ending run, both inspiring and discouraging. I find myself rambling often with nothing to say, and leaving novels to linger at the tips of my lips–never forming into the sound for which they yearn.
To sum up my empty rant: If what I want is really what I want, then why am I not truly working for it? I’m still digging for that answer.
For now, though, the trees are beautiful and there’s a breeze in the quad. Updates to come.
Half my Wandering Mind posts are just rants about how I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.