What is One Year?

Given all the tumult of graduation and starting a new job, I haven't had as much time to reflect as I'd like, but a thought came into my head around commencement and hasn't left. As I sat in the sweltering heat wearing dress clothes under a black cap and gown, I thought about what a year really meant. Listening to Shirley Ann Jackson talk about herself for an hour and the two speakers prattle on about misinformation and the horrible world we're inheriting made me realize how much had happened in one year.

Commencement was at the end of May. One year prior, I was working full time as a Research Associate for a biotechnology startup in Maryland. Living on my own in a tiny apartment as frugally as possible, just trying to learn as much as I could. I worked until August, and while I can't say there weren't hiccups, I did enjoy my time there. It was as close to pure independence as I'd had up until then.

Then school started, and my fall semester was fairly light. I was able to maintain my workout schedule, take time to write, and get enough sleep all while keeping up with coursework. I should mention that this was only possible because I front loaded my curriculum as much as I could, something I can't recommend enough. That semester flew by, and I soon found myself on the other side of winter break, desperately searching for jobs as I embarked on what is quite possibly the most grueling project I have ever undertaken at RPI: Senior Capstone.

For four months, my group gutted out long nights, excruciating simulations, and hundreds of pages of technical writing. It paid off in the end, but all that work just made the semester move even quicker. I'd grown so accustomed to living in the two bedroom apartment that it seemed like a century ago that I was in Maryland.

And that's really the crux of my question here: What is one year? I feel like we're often so daunted by the prospect of personal or professional goals that we lose hope before we even begin. I know I've felt like that at almost every stage of my life, and now... it all seems so far away. The person who I am today is so far removed from the person I was one year ago today. That person who lived in Maryland didn't have the experiences I've had. He hadn't read as much, he hadn't finished writing his fourth book, let alone his fifth, and he was contending with reaching his earliest fitness goals.

One thing I definitely want to avoid is romanticizing the past or the present; I did enough of that in my "Leaving RPI" post. Of course I wasn't some naïve, starry-eyed college student working in a strange and distant land completely divorced from all family and friends. Likewise, I'm not some grizzled veteran of the "real world" now. I'm still spending every day pretty much the same as I've always had. Sometimes, I take little steps forward. Other times, I fall. In the context of a day or a week, small progress and failures can seem disheartening; it can seem like we're not going anywhere.

The patience to be able to sit back and take these little things on the chin and keep moving forward is hard earned, and it's something I'm still trying to earn. However, once it's there, it's life changing. It's not about being a cold, detached individual who is apathetic towards the past because there's always another, dreary sunrise awaiting them. It's about knowing that no matter where you are now, one year from now you have the potential to be somewhere drastically different. In certain cases, life pulls you along the bends and spinneys itself, like when you're in college. Yet most of the time all it takes is a little bit of initiative. It doesn't have to be the classic, "Just try to make today a little better than yesterday," or, "Focus on one little thing every day that could make a difference." Frankly, I find such platitudes tiring.

Often, you're not even aware the change is happening until it's already happened and set in stone. That's the origin of this post, as I mentioned earlier. All you need to do is be willing to commit to something, and once it's there it'll grow itself if you give it time. For me, the commitment was made subconsciously when I decided to start reading more, and when I began writing these sorts of things. For others, those things may also be subconscious, and you may already be doing them. If so, take a moment to reflect on how far you've come. You'll probably be surprised.

Random note: As I finished writing this, I ate a fortune cookie which said, "Everything must have a beginning," and if that's not fate, I don't know what is.