I have neglected my
reflection spot. I should say spots because technically I have two; one
specifically for this class, and one that I have gravitated toward naturally
since the beginning of sophomore year. But I feel the reflection spot I had for
class was one I chose out of opportunity. It has little emotional connection
and thus I feel less guilty about not being there in a while. I feel
differently about the lake.
I have spent hours sitting next to Westhampton
Lake reflecting. I used to go every night before bed to pray and then randomly
throughout the week when I had a few minutes of free time. It helps to focus on
something bigger than yourself when you aren’t under a ceiling where the words
you say bounce right back at you. This place feels like home. I go to the lake
when I want to be lonely. It’s perfect for solitude because no one goes walking
around the lake at night unless they are trying to get somewhere. I go to the
lake when I want to be sad. The people on the path are behind you and the
people on the other side of the lake are too far away to see that you’re upset.
I go to the lake when I want to remember. There is no one there to ask me what
I’m thinking. I go to the lake for something, but I never find what I want. I
go to the lake to be lonely, but I am never alone. I go to the lake to be sad,
but I am peaceful in all things. I go to the lake to remember, but I find
myself forgetting everything when I see all the beauty and all the brokenness
of the world.
But that is how I and my
reflection spot have changed. The cherry and oak trees have blossomed and revealed
their foliage, pulling viewers all by a silken (inch-wormy) strand into a new
season. And with the passing of the season, I feel like I have my own strand
holding me fast to some steady branch hanging faithfully above me. It is funny;
I was observing an inch-worm one day, considering how it reflects our
relationships. When we are trying to help someone grow or move on past their
pain, we can’t do the work for them. All we can do is remain faithful and
strong for them. Our love is the silver strand, and they just have to figure
out what to do with it. When I was thinking about this, I did not think I would
ever be dangling from the end of an almost invisible piece of silk; I would
place myself as the branch. I did not realize till just now that I had been the
inch-worm for a long, long time. Now I am less dependent upon my reflection
spot. I have less of a need to escape from people and more of an appreciation
for those who have been the tree to which I am clinging. There were too many
times when I was angry with the way people were helping me, which is ridiculous.
I would not have them do anything differently because I see that their love
could not have been displayed in any other way than it was.
I realize this sounds
similar to what I said in a previous post. Most of my posts have a general tone
of reconciliation and growth. But this understanding sits a lot deeper than just
realizing I love the people around me. It is a lot more difficult to come to
terms with because of how much I have depended on my friends.
Something else I have grown
to appreciate this year, and particularly this semester, is my education. I
think Celeste is right in saying “Education enriches everything around you” in
her post “Itchy Eyes, beautiful dogwoods”. I have always put education second
to friendships. I see it more important to ensure the contentment of a friend
than to ensure the advancement of my career. Something I hadn’t considered was
how my progress in school affects those relationships that I love the most, specifically
the relationship with my parents. Education is a gift. There is nothing I have done
to merit the obtaining of the information I have access to. We see it as some
sort of right, as though we are entitled to know how to produce an income statement
and how to make sense of short stories by Marquez. We aren’t entitled and it isn’t
a right. Education is a gift and it enriches everything around you. Unlike
Celeste, I wasn’t able to avoid the sophomore slump. I am, in fact, suffering
through a textbook case of the sophomore slump. I just had too many things that
I was trying to be good at. There were seven different classes on my schedule
along with work hours, individual and group meetings, camping trips, friendship
meltdowns, and time playing soccer. In taking on so many responsibilities,
though, I was not showing respect to my parents because I was not taking
seriously their financial commitment to pay for my education. This is why I am
excited to be staying in Richmond next year, because I will have some many
fewer responsibilities. I will be able to apply myself fully to a small number
of things instead of spreading myself thin over a great many number of things. Through
this sophomore slump I have been able to understand the enriching qualities of
education. I have not just learnt how I can better love and respect my parents,
but how knowing the truth changes everything.
Knowing the truth really
does change everything. Even if the knowledge I have obtained about something
means nothing to me when I learn it at first, it will most likely mean
something one day. When I was sitting eating humus after hiking up a mountain
and listening to my mother talk about pinecones, I never thought “This piece of
information about pinecones will one day be something I remember when I
consider God’s faithfulness”. But it has.
My reflection spot has faded
out of my night time routine, but I don’t miss it. I am happy that I no longer
feel the need to escape. I am happy that I no longer need to be convinced into
being happy. I am happy that I have another chance to honor my parents with the
way I work hard at school. I am most happy that I have something, someone, who
holds me steadily whenever I feel like I am swinging in midair.