Sapling

I recently graduated from college. An actual university has deemed my scholastic shenanigans worthy of accreditation. I view this as both an accomplishment and a successful pulling of wool over eyes.

The more time that passes, the more opportunity there is for occurrences to occur. I started college a while ago. Therefore, it could be (correctly) assumed that a lot has occurred since I started college. The impending ending of my college career has caused me to reflect on these occurrences. This process culminated on the last day of finals:  It was a beautiful day that began with my last trip to the testing center—a joyous occasion, until I got the score for my test. This reminded me why it was such a joyous occasion, and my joy forcefully poked my disappointment in the bum and asked it to leave. I then began the finishing touches on my final assignment as an undergraduate, a paper that simply needed to be turned in by the end of the day. I made quick (read not quick) work of the assignment, printed it off, stapled the crap out of it, put on my backpack, and jaunted down the stairs and out the door of my place of employment. Exhaustion and relief swarmed over me, but I was too exhausted to feel the relief, so exhaustion ultimately swarmed over me and my relief.

Per assignment, I headed toward the building wherein my destiny lie. Although I felt no need or desire to think, the significance of the moment was not lost on me—I was on my way to put the proverbial cherry on top of my non-proverbial undergraduate work. It had been a week of lasts, and, being a sucker for sentimental drivel, I had given due thought to each one that I had experienced to that point. This was likely the last of the lasts, and I gave it (more than) its due thought. For every building I passed, I took a moment to reflect on any memories I might’ve had there. There were a lot. I finally arrived at the building in question, got lost for 45 minutes looking for my professor’s office, lost my student ID card somehow, and dropped off my paper. Microcosms, chiasmi, etc.  Needless to say, this was a needlessly emotional experience for me. College over.

I have had the nostalgic experience of working near my Freshman dorm for the last 3 and a half years.  Most of the time, I didn’t think too much about it—the building was not in my direct path, so out of sight, out of mind.  It did become much more apparent, however, when the option of passing by was no longer available.  Recently, my university began the process of building new dorms, as the old ones had more than done their time.  I didn’t get long to be sentimental, though, as my old apartment building was one of the first they knocked down.  It was mildly sad when it happened.  But, with so many other things to think about, it quickly got pushed to the back of my mind.  However, it has begun to creep back to the forefront as of late.  And this because they have finally gotten around to building a new building in the exact location where the former stood. And this means construction. 

I love passing by construction sites; construction has always fascinated me. It’s fun for me to think about all of the possibilities of what that new structure or project could be. I imagine what it’s going to look like, what purpose it will serve, and how it will affect the surrounding area. After tickling my mind with all of the possibilities, I love watching the projects progress—the care in laying the foundation and the different strategies employed in sequentially completing each respective stage. And then the finished product is achieved and establishes itself in the collective stream of consciousness. Eventually, it stops being something new and exciting and it becomes a ‘permanent’ and regular fixture—after a while, it just becomes normal. You begin to forget that things weren’t always that way, and remembering back to when they weren’t takes progressively more effort.

I find a bit of significance in the timing of this new dorm. Said significance may not exist inherently, but Jung says that if I find significance, then it’s significant, and he’s famous, so there. In the process of reminiscing upon times past and younger days, I have continually been reminded that things are different now than they were then. It has become increasingly obvious that I am one of the things that is different. The more time that passes, the more opportunity there is for occurrences to occur. Therefore, it could be (correctly) assumed that a lot has occurred since I started college. Much that has occurred has played into my growth. Using the transitive property (I think. I don’t go to college), it can (also correctly) be assumed that I’ve grown a lot in and as a result of my time here. I myself have been a construction site, of sorts. Each new year, with its distinct twists and turns, has completed a new phase of the project that is me. I have yet to become a finished product (I hope), but my mind seemed to have forgotten some of the earlier stages of Project Me©. A perpetually interesting possibility when looking backwards is seeing how far we’ve come. Sometimes, this distance eludes us as we are wont to presently acknowledge only the aspects of ourselves which are most present—those which have become (and therefore have not always been) our norm. Looking back reminds us that often times they haven't always been the norm, and hopefully helps foster within us both appreciation for these changes and the process by which they’ve come about, as well as faith that we are capable of continuing similar processes in the future.

Maybe I’m just being a bit too sappy with all of this, as I am wont to be.  Maybe I’m just being a sapling.

These are pictures of saplings. I included the first one because it’s coming from an egg and that doesn’t make sense. I included the second one because it’s a sapling. Originally, I wrote sapling as a hilarious play on other words. Sap begets sappiness which is what I was demonstrating. Therefore, one who demonstrates sappiness would naturally be a sapling. I’ll give you a moment to stop laughing.  But upon further examination, sapling became the perfect word to describe much of my recent experience.  A sapling is a young tree or person. I’m not (particularly) young anymore, but I have been looking back on times when I was. Unpleasant and fecal as it may sound, I've been pruned and dunged and fertilized and have grown and been the better for it. There’s also the cyclical process of a new beginning stemming from any given end. This is the first time in a while that I haven’t had my immediate future planned out for me. I can do (almost) whatever I want. This is an extremely humbling and vulnerable thought. But vulnerability leads to tickling, which is always fun. And once I allow myself to get past the crippling fear of uncertainty, the prospects are extremely exciting. Life begins anew, so to speak, and the possibilities are endless. So I’m not too worried.  Another reason I chose the second picture above is because I found it significant that the sapling is gently held and supported by a pair of dutiful hands. I am and have been in the best of hands, and if I adhere to what I’ve learned through my experience (especially outside the classroom), nothing will go so wrong that it can’t eventually end up right. I can’t adequately express how grateful I am to all of those who have been a part of this experience, so here’s a picture of a dog on stilts:

And thus ends an era. As my old but meaningful building has crumbled and the construction of a new one has begun, one meaningful stage of life has ended and a new one has begun. I am but a mere sapling in the spice garden of life. The possibilities are endless and are currently tickling and crippling the crap out of my brain. Not literally, thankfully. Let’s see if I can’t make like Jurassic Park and turn this fortunate sap into something great.