Back in the day (sometime last year), I was in the habit of publishing a blog post every single week. It wasn’t always pretty (remember “Life Lessons Shared by a Twice-Moved Young Adult”?), but I was creating content. This was a result of my goal to publish a blog post every week, and it was precisely the accountability I needed to push the boundaries of my creativity.
One of my favorite times of the year is when I sit down to come up with my next year’s list of goals. I love this exercise because it allows me to think about what I want to accomplish in the coming year while pushing me to think outside the box and to challenge myself.
Having recently made my way back into the world of academia, I decided to take a stroll down memory lane by leafing through some of the papers I wrote during my time as an undergraduate student. One that stood out to me was a book summary I wrote about Susan Cahalan’s bestselling memoir Brain on Fire.
Today I want to share something I wrote and then proceeded to keep to myself for over four years. I wrote it at a time when I was vulnerable and searching, and I have been scared to share it because I knew that doing so would highlight the flaws I wish weren’t still so visible in my life. I would have probably continued keeping it to myself if it weren’t for the events of recent weeks, but before I dive into that story, here is what I wrote in July 2014:
My goal to “join a group” has hung over my head throughout the past year. This is primarily because I would go back and forth on which group to join. I initially considered joining a running club, but I decided against this after straining my knee and observing how unnecessarily energetic those in athletic clubs tend to be. So after the dream of joining a weekly running club ended, I began to set my sights on something much more sedentary. And that was when I decided to join a book club.
I woke up on the second morning of my Canada adventure feeling rested, and like the day before, I pushed myself to enjoy the morning instead of rushing. Once I was finally ready to go, I packed my belongings and drove down to the beach for a final swim before beginning the trek back to Ohio.
Of all the goals that I set in October 2017, the one to “Put an end to any grudges” has intimated me the most. This is because I tend to cling to grudges with the vice-like grip of a toddler clutching their favorite toy. Knowing this as I planned the upcoming year’s goals, I decided to attempt to abolish this practice.
Not many people work in a job like mine where they are encouraged to explore unrelated involvement opportunities during times that would typically be reserved for their full-time job. I was recently reminded of this when I worked with the Wave Program.
Yep, I just used a sports term. It was essentially clickbait to lure people who know how athletically-challenged I am to this post. So now that it has served it’s purpose (hello, non-habitual, curious readers!), I will begin an utterly non-athletic post.
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.