graduation as death; a eulogy
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Hey! It’s been a while.
When I started this newsletter, I made it out to be a weekly thing. Secretly, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep it up. I think I’m 7 weeks behind now, which is more than I thought 😅
But that’s okay. I feel like some longer breaks gives me some time to live life and observe things worth writing about. The project statement remains the same: document my thoughts until I graduate. Part of that is living a life worth remembering.
what’s been on my mind
Over the past weekend I had the pleasure of going out with some friends, and we ended up staying up all night just chatting in what turned into an accidental all-nighter 🙈. It was an absolute joy, one of those silly spontaneous college decisions that I can only make so many more times.
It’s sad to think about, but I’ve been really internalizing the idea that there’s going to be a lot of ‘lasts’ this year. I’ve already had my last first day of class, last first interest meetings for my clubs, and this past weekend could very much be the last all-nighter I pull in college. It might not be, but it very well could be.
It’s a beautiful way of life to be aware of your ‘lasts’.
Usually you’re not aware when you do something for the last time. Like when I played Minecraft with my childhood best friend for the last time, neither of us knew that it would be: we probably logged off saying something like “I’ll see you next time!”
I’ve been thinking about that gratitude exercise where you approach things like it’s your last time you do it --- hugging your mom, getting lunch with a friend, going to the gym --- because if it’s the last time, it just feels so much sweeter. You really have to relish it. ‘This is it’.
“I remind myself nearly every day of something that a doctor told me six months before my friend Pammy died. This was a doctor who always gave me straight answers. When I called on this one particular night, I was hoping she could put a positive slant on some distressing developments. She couldn’t, but she said something that changed my life. ‘Watch her carefully right now,’ she said, ‘because she’s teaching you how to live.’
I remind myself of this when I cannot get any work done: to live as if I am dying, because the truth is we are all terminal on this bus. To live as if we are dying gives us a chance to experience some real presence. Time is so full for people who are dying in a conscious way, full in the way that life is for children. They spend big round hours. So instead of staring miserably at the computer screen trying to will my way into having a breakthrough, I say to myself, ‘Okay, hmmm, let’s see. Dying tomorrow. What should I do today?’ then I can decide to read Wallace Stevens for the rest of the morning or got o the beach or just really participate in ordinary life.”
- Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird
So graduation, this contrived event 9 months from now, acts as a cutoff - a metaphorical death. In fact, I’m very uncertain what happens to my life right after graduation at the moment, which makes it all the more real that this college life as I know it --- life as I know it now --- ends sharply sometime in May. I’m living life as if the things I’m doing here could be the last time I do them here. And I have to relish it. This is it.
I feel like a key component of growing up is understanding how time passes. With each passing year here, I’ve recalibrated my sense of time and what I can do and achieve in a year. I’ve come to truly understand how long a year is in college. I’ve come to understand that there’s a very finite set of things that I can apply myself — that I can pour my heart into one last time. I have to come to terms that no, I really won’t be able to spend time a lot of time with everyone; that no, I won’t be able to finish that project on the side. It’s the reality of the brevity of the weeks that pass by: suddenly, the year will just be over.
This especially applies in the context of people, because I remember in my second or third year meeting up with some people and being like “oh yeah let’s get lunch again sometime!” and then we never got a chance to. It’s partly my fault I don’t proactively reach out more, but it’s still the case that for some people, the last time in college I meet and hang out with them will be sometime very soon. When I was chatting last night, the topic of ‘biggest college regret’ came up. My answer has always been, and will likely always be, that I wish I had spent more time with the people I cared about — or wanted to care more for.
To think that in my first year, I used to wonder when the next time I could go home was. College used to be limbo: a place where I was suspended in isolation, not sure what to do, who to connect to, and how to do it. But these years have gone fast. In the meantime, I’ve found a second home here. I never anticipated that I would begin to feel more at home here than home, even though long ago people told me that I would. I didn’t believe them. Now, I have to be ready to say goodbye so soon.
It’s strange being a fourth year. I’ve gotten so used to having upperclassmen to look up to. Those people who cared about me when I was a first year, who spent time with me and fostered the communities that I was welcomed into. Now, I have to step up to the plate, grow into the role. I don’t feel ready. I still feel like a kid. But I suppose that doesn’t matter now. I don’t think my upperclassmen really felt ‘ready’ to be upperclassmen. They just did it.
I know I have just a couple friends who even know about this blog. But I want them to know that I hope for the next year that I’m here, I want to exude this love of life, childlike wonder, and bravery to live authentically. I don’t think my friends already associate me with these things, but I’m hoping to embody these sorts of things moving forward. I feel like I’ve spent far too much time in the past here in college worrying about my GPA, career prospects, and if I’m going out enough on weekends. Really, I just want to live big round hours with people. I want to fight against the jaded fourth year persona that creeps into my default settings. I want to grow into myself some more before I go.
I want people to remember me for that: that I brought a level of raw joy, sensitivity, and authenticity in a way that mattered for them. That I showed up for life; that I showed up for myself; and I showed up for them.
So yeah. Graduation as a death, and this is a eulogy I’m writing for myself before it happens. I hope to be everything first year me would have wanted in an upperclassmen. Everything first year me would have been proud of: that I really connected to my people, that I really connected to the flow of life. That I wake up every day with an uncanny vigor, yet always at rest that I’m doing things right.
a song before you go
“You know Porter, some people die of nostalgia. So you better look out… Just kidding!” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PoTu269qSnw
It can really feel like I’m trying to relive the nostalgia of my previous years. But I hope the attitudes and novelty I can bring this year focuses me in on the present.
This is it. Here’s to more funny (maybe not stupid) college decisions like staying up all night. You know, while I’m still here, while I’m young. Here’s to enjoying every moment while it lasts.
— Evan