Hallways, Stress, and Thankfulness

I’m really stressed out.

And the last thing I “should” be doing is spending time writing about how stressed out I am. I should be studying for finals, working on upcoming projects, writing final papers, replying to emails, or one of the many, many, many things that compose my mental stress list. But no, instead I’m sitting in a deserted hallway on the third floor of Shillman writing a blog post. The last 24 hours have been a lot to handle: professors telling me to switch my final paper topic last minute, awkward tension-filled encounters with people, homework assignments I forgot about that were due the next day, obligations and prior commitments to friends I needed to fulfill, a long shift at my new job. This morning I woke up to a lump of stress in my stomach the size of a bowling ball as I thought about all the exams, finals, papers, and projects that await me next week. And to top it all off, my bank graciously notified me that my credit card number had been stolen and someone was trying to buy a lot of cigarettes with my hard earned (though measly sum of) money. I wanted to check out of my life like a hotel room and go somewhere else and not have to deal with cleaning up this mess.  

I’m two and half weeks away from completing my first year back in school. A year ago I was living in Beijing and had no idea what the next phase of my life would entail. It was an incredible winding road but somehow I ended up in a hallway outside a Physics class at Northeastern University in Boston, Massachusetts (don’t worry, I’m not skipping class. I don’t take physics). When I think about the past year and the years ahead, I’m overwhelmed with grief, joy, peace, terror, and excitement. The past 24 hours have been the most stressed out I’ve been in a long time and perhaps one of the first times I’ve been stressed out about classes since coming back to school. But it’s in times like these where I know the very thing I need to do is stop, sit down, and reflect. No amount of good grades or finished To-Do lists will give me life. No amount of planning out the next 5 years or 3 months will bring me success. Only taking time to simply be me – apart from all the noise and chaos of college kid life – will matter to my eternal being. As I look out the window I can see a tree with its branches covered with little buds. Little soft pink buds that are just tiny sleeping hopes soon to crack up and spill color into the atmosphere. I am comforted by the fact that the stress of my day, though intense and very real it may be, cannot affect these blossoms. That no matter how horrible or busy or un-ideal my life may be, Spring is undeterred. Sunshine isn’t dependent on if I feel light. The breeze isn’t bothered by my furrowed brow nor the sky moved by my To-Do list. And in this moment, all I can do is be thankful for that. I am thankful that my stress never gets the final word, that my stress actually possesses no actual power. I am thankful that sometimes the best way to handle being overwhelmed by stress is to let yourself be overwhelmed by the sight of the fluffy white clouds or the fresh blue sky or a stranger holding the door open of you. My life is not merely paper and words. Yes, it is complex but it is also simple.

I don’t know where I’ll be a year from now. I don’t have any answers for any of my questions of what, how, when, and why. But today I’m grateful for deserted hallways with good views that remind me to sit down and be quiet.