Whether manifested in pivotal, once in a lifetime moments or predictable quotidian events, everyone faces a myriad of crossroads. They come and go wholly out of our control, representing an increasingly infinite number of seized possibilities and analogously missed opportunities. The thought that we can make so many choices and yet leave a googolplex of untapped potentials is astounding. That number is unfathomably enormous and serves as a reminder of just how much we miss out on life. It comes as no surprise that to experience everything life has to offer is simply not possible, although that doesn't mean that there is not use in trying.
0 Comments
I wish I could say that every day I did something that scared me. Something that pushed me outside my comfort zone. The motive is a well-known and widely embraced one, a goal that I believe is fantastic to have. The simple fact of the matter? I don't. As a natural introvert, I find the idea as unsettling as it is intriguing. To try something new, something frightening, every day. A seemingly unobtainable, frightening, fantastic dream. Still, the concept is one that has always stuck with me -- one that I haven't been able to get out of my head.
As my first year of college draws to a close, I can't help but feel that conflicting combination of sadness and excitement. To think that four months separate me and my return to one of my favorite places on the planet feels like an inescapable eternity--unfathomable and absolute. There is so much that I will miss once I pack up and move out for the summer: my wonderful friends who put up with my random bouts of energy and obsessive organization; the college's beautiful hillside campus, compact and welcoming; the cozy Victorian dorm I have called home for the past eight months; the delicious local restaurants downtown Burlington has to offer; and, of course, the gorgeous view of shimmering Lake Champlain that monopolizes my writing. To say that I am eager to return for the fall semester would be an understatement. Next year I begin specializing in my major, enrolling in writing and foreign language classes and pretty much fulfilling my dreams. Not only that, but Burlington in late summer and fall is breathtaking. The trees shine with vibrant red and orange hues that dapple the mountainsides and liven up my walk to campus. Although the days become shorter, the sunset never ceases to amaze me. Every evening I watch the sun progress behind the mountains, casting its brilliant rays across the orange sky and bleeding into the cotton ball clouds, staining them various shades from red to pink. I never tire of this daily ritual, as every display is different and even more magnificent than the last. This weekend was one of the most beautiful we've had in a while--quite the contrast to the plague of eternal winter that is Burlington, Vermont. The sun shone bright and unhindered by the sea of grey clouds that have dominated the sky for far too long, properly warming my skin for the first time since fall. Enjoying a walk under the endless expanse of brilliant cerulean sky is my idea of perfection. I took a walk to the lakefront yesterday afternoon to watch the sunset, not quite used to the longer days and misjudging the time by an hour or so. Still, I was enjoying the dying rays while they lasted, hoping the remaining warmth would keep away the cold that was beginning to penetrate my decidedly too-light fleece and sweatshirt combo. The mountains were pale blue and purple silhouettes against the sky's gradient, which faded near the horizon and grew deeper as it stretched the impossible dome above. |
Who Am I?Introverted bookworm, vegan foodie, casual runner, writer/editor, envier of tiny houses, Hufflepuff/Pukwudgie, and self-declared nerd. Creating Order From Chaos
All
Ye Olde Posts
December 2016
Slice of Life |