Last Sunday I got a call that I never wanted. I was in Indianapolis for a winter retreat with students who volunteer for my office when I received news that I was not expecting. I first got a text telling me that my Grandma was not doing well and then a follow-up call to inform me of how pressing the situation truly was.
If you’ve been following my 23-goals, you’ll know that I agreed to visit my friend Rae in New York City during my week of “yes.” We did a ton of incredible activities, so instead of trying to paint the narrative of my visit, I’ve decided to break my NYC adventure into the lessons that I’ve learned.
Sometimes I meticulously plan the execution of my goals, and other times, I happen to complete a goal without even trying to do so. This recently happened when I bought my friend Alexis a bouquet of flowers.
Like most people my age, I have an unhealthy dependence on all forms of media (Instagram, YouTube, online news sites, etc.). Realizing that this was a problem in my life, I decided to make it a goal that I would abstain from media for two whole weeks. I had no idea what I was getting into when I started this challenge, but boy did I quickly learn.
I have a problem. No, I’m not referring to my obsession with documentaries about the morbidly obese or the happiness that I derive from making muffins late at night (although those may be connected and could undoubtedly use a blog post to dissect). Rather, I am referring to the unbelievably fast way in which I say “no.”
I have loved books for as long as I can remember. Even as a child, I distinctly remember the thrill that came from receiving a book as a gift. I relished the opportunity to turn the pages and immerse myself in the world that they contained. And to this day, I still experience joy each time I open a new book. Wow, this has taken a much more nostalgic turn than I originally planned. I should probably give you some context for why I am writing so enthusiastically about inanimate objects.
A new year (birth year, that is) means a new set of goals. Last year I decided to move away from setting a goal for every year of my life in favor of fifteen more manageable goals. To be honest, these goals did not excite me. I wrote them in a haze of uncreativity last year when I was having difficulty finding something to write about, and I struggled to feel excited about many of them.
In the words of Sia, “I’m aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiivvvvvveeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!” I know that I’ve been M.I.A. for quite some time, but I’ve committed to getting back into blogging. To show how committed I’ve become, I’m planning on publishing a few posts within a few days. Yes, you heard me right; I will be posting more than once per month! But before I get into the swing of things, I want to wrap up my goals from my year as a twenty-two-year-old.
Earlier this year, I received news that was devastating. I was in the middle of the admission process for graduate school, and I had high hopes that I would be able to begin the second portion of my higher education later this year. Feeling overly positive, I did not put much thought into what I would do if I were not accepted into the program. Well, I ended up being forced to learn how I would handle graduate school rejection.
76 minutes. 5 days per week. No, I’m not referring to the amount of time that I do cardio each day; rather, I am talking about how long I drove in complete and utter silence. When devising my goals as a twenty-two-year-old, I thought about how much I rely on music to make time fly when I have to drive somewhere. Within a few seconds of getting into my car, I find myself plugging in my phone, turning on Spotify, and letting my mind zone out to the music. Music is by no means bad, but I thought that would be a good exercise in self-awareness to remove it from my commute for a week.