Beautiful Disaster
The day before my first day of college classes, my roommate and I walked around campus, maps in hand, figuring out the location of each of our lecture halls and charting out our daily routes. Looking back, it seems almost laughable (yes, almost), but at the time, we were willing to do whatever it would take to prevent utter confusion come game time. Part of it was our not wanting to look like complete fools as we frantically scurried across campus during the ten-minute passing period. But this was only part of it. Onlookers are never quite looking on as much as we like to think. This was more about me. I didn't want to experience that stomach-in-a-knot lump-in-the-throat feeling of confusion (which translated into embarrassment) when, supposedly, I was an "adult."
While my first day of classes might not have been as confusing as it would have been had I forgone my field trip the previous day, I can't say that I was completely successful in warding off the confusion from my early-college life. I was confused about whether studying was cool or not cool. I was confused about what to expect. I was confused why people glorified experiences. Then pile on the academic confusion (ranging from macro, i.e. What should be my major? to micro, i.e. What is going on in this class?). To avoid belaboring the subject, I was a confused college kid (embrace the alliteration).
Just a few days ago, I was having a weekly phone conversation with one of my childhood friends. She is also a college student, but a bit younger, and yes, still in that confused stage. As she was talking, I, for the first time, realized that I have passed Level Confusion. When I moved back to school at the end of this summer, it was like clockwork. Same room, same habits, same lecture buildings, but not the same confusion.
The lack of present "confusion" in my college life cannot be interpreted as an absence of raison d'être or as jadedness. The confusion has been replaced by pleasant surprise. That type of pleasant where you know what to expect, but the nuances just leave you with no choice but to smile. Pleasant surprise is the one where your heart leaps. Confusion is the one where your heart sinks then bounces around in your stomach. Right?
When I hung up, I came to terms with the following fact: I miss being confused. Being allowed to be confused. But confusion shouldn't be a sentiment that we lock up and hide the key. It isn't a label of ignorance or naivete. It is an emotion that fuels our growth -- it pushes us to think deeply and make choices.
I didn't have to look very long or far to find and lure the confusion back into my life. Sure, things may be comfortable at college, but I am confused about my post-college plans (or lack thereof): I am confused about what exactly I want to do, where exactly I want to be, and a plethora of other issues. And most importantly, I am confused about how my present state of confusion could possibly feel so pleasant.
While my first day of classes might not have been as confusing as it would have been had I forgone my field trip the previous day, I can't say that I was completely successful in warding off the confusion from my early-college life. I was confused about whether studying was cool or not cool. I was confused about what to expect. I was confused why people glorified experiences. Then pile on the academic confusion (ranging from macro, i.e. What should be my major? to micro, i.e. What is going on in this class?). To avoid belaboring the subject, I was a confused college kid (embrace the alliteration).
Just a few days ago, I was having a weekly phone conversation with one of my childhood friends. She is also a college student, but a bit younger, and yes, still in that confused stage. As she was talking, I, for the first time, realized that I have passed Level Confusion. When I moved back to school at the end of this summer, it was like clockwork. Same room, same habits, same lecture buildings, but not the same confusion.
The lack of present "confusion" in my college life cannot be interpreted as an absence of raison d'être or as jadedness. The confusion has been replaced by pleasant surprise. That type of pleasant where you know what to expect, but the nuances just leave you with no choice but to smile. Pleasant surprise is the one where your heart leaps. Confusion is the one where your heart sinks then bounces around in your stomach. Right?
When I hung up, I came to terms with the following fact: I miss being confused. Being allowed to be confused. But confusion shouldn't be a sentiment that we lock up and hide the key. It isn't a label of ignorance or naivete. It is an emotion that fuels our growth -- it pushes us to think deeply and make choices.
I didn't have to look very long or far to find and lure the confusion back into my life. Sure, things may be comfortable at college, but I am confused about my post-college plans (or lack thereof): I am confused about what exactly I want to do, where exactly I want to be, and a plethora of other issues. And most importantly, I am confused about how my present state of confusion could possibly feel so pleasant.
Comments
i'm thinking about my confusion in a whole new way! i'm starting to think that the day i cease to be confused is when i realize im finally grown up..so basically i'm with you sista, lets be young (at heart) and explore undiscovered facets of our beings forever!