Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Slow Growth

Now is the winter of our discontent /  Made glorious summer by this son of York - Richard III, Act I, Scene i, Lines 1-2

The lines above may seem a little incongruous considering that summer is now over. Soon gone are the days of 9-5 office hours; kiss the lazy summer weekends by the poolside goodbye. Long-term project thinking must take a backseat to short-term proactivity and reactivity (read: firefighting). Bloomington has doubled in size once again; the roads are clogged with new students just trying to get to Target to buy that new futon. Soon, the hazy summer heat will melt into breezy days and cool nights of fall, soon to be replaced by steely gray winter days once again.

Summer, as I've written before, is one of my favorite times of year. And yet, this summer was rough.

Nothing major happened to me; no family trauma or personal tragedy befell (praise God); and yet, I was discontent this summer. I felt rushed through the days, stumbling headlong through programs and travel, and when I blinked, summer was basically over and it was time to prepare for fall and our Welcome Week programs. I turned 26, and once again found myself beset by the quarter-life crisis: What the hell am I doing with my life? I have a great job, great friends, success... why can't I be content? What am I missing? Should I be seeking something more? Anyone who has wrestled with these questions can tell you that there's no easy answer.

I still don't have an answer to these questions, months later, as we now kick into high gear for fall and another new school year. And yet, the discontent has melted away. I have made a commitment to be more present, to live IN the present, and I find myself feeling more at peace. Sure, I still ponder my next steps; sure, I'd say I'm still in the grips of yet another quarter-life crisis. But contentment is the secret word for Fall 2014, and my one "new year's resolution."

As I think about this shift in personal perspective, I think it's the result of slow growth. If you look at a plant every single day, you may think that nothing has changed. The leaves are no bigger, the stems are no taller. And yet, if you compare the plant to where it was a month ago, it has grown, even in the most subtle of ways. It has changed. It has adapted to its surroundings and found a way to push out new life, new leaves, new growth.

That's the way I feel right now. No growth spurts, no sudden bursts of insight or wisdom. But I am not the same woman I was 3 months ago, 6 months ago, a year ago, two years ago. I am the accumulation of my experiences, good and bad, and I have changed, thanks to that inevitable, creeping slow growth. I can be proud of that change, too. It's noticeable from the outside, even when I don't always acknowledge it from the inside. It's there. It's present. I am learning, growing, and becoming better, day by day. The icy nerves of my "winter of discontent" are melting away, to be replaced by rest and relaxation in the "glorious summer" of the knowledge that I am learning, and that I know more today than I knew yesterday (and, I'll know more tomorrow than I know today). I can be content, at peace.

Contentment is the name of the game, folks. I challenge you to find evidence of your slow growth this fall. Let the winter of your discontent melt away, and find a glorious summer in the knowledge that you are continually learning and changing. Find your peaceful moment in today.


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