Commencement, the ceremony for this semester’s graduates, is exactly two months from today. As often as I think about life after graduation, it still managed to sneak up on me. While I am very ready to get on with my life, the uncertainty and fear of what comes next is unmistakable. (Like I honestly get upset in the morning when I can’t choose the right pair of shoes…how am I supposed to decide on the right post-collegiate path?!) Even more so, I’m finding myself in a contradictory mindset; I feel incredibly nostalgic and simultaneously intensely critical about basically everything in my life.
I keep thinking about everything I care about, all the memories I’ve made and all the people I’ve made them with (nostalgia), and the next second I’m deciding if the person is someone I care enough about to work to stay in touch with once we’re separated, or if the things I’m spending my time doing are things I want to continue putting time towards once I graduate (critical).
Then it struck me: graduation is like moving, or more specifically, it’s like the ultimate garage sale. I’m sure you’re probably not following me (most people don’t, it’s the wild wild west up in my brain), but hear me out.
Have you ever noticed that when a family is preparing to move, often times they have a garage sale beforehand? Or a yard sale, or give to Goodwill, or even just one big trash party where they throw away an unsightly number of bags of shit? In my experience, it’s not a pre-planned step of the moving process; rather, it’s something that happens organically. While they’re mentally planning out boxing methods and a packing strategy – or maybe they jumped in headfirst like I usually do and end up completely overwhelmed by the many piles of stuff they have – they realize they should probably go through it all so they don’t waste time or energy packing deadweight from one home and unpacking it into another.
Graduation is a lot like that.
When you move, you sort through the tangible – books, gadgets, electronics, an unholy number of shoes and necklaces, pictures, etc. – and decide if it’s a keep or a sell. Occasionally you run across something that complicates the normally straightforward process, usually something that you have an emotional connection to and that connection clouds your ability to see that it shouldn’t be kept, or vice versa.
Fast forward, and you now you have your “No” boxes. They’re filled with goodies that could rake in some legitimate dough, but instead of selling each item on eBay or Craigslist, you sell them for mere pennies in your front yard, or donate/trash it for nothing at all. Why? Because it isn’t about the financial value of the items. It’s all about their emotional value, and more importantly, the emotional importance of letting them go. It’s about recalibrating priorities, and unloading what doesn’t make the cut.
Graduation is a lot like that, except I’m now sifting through the intangible, which makes it a bit more complicated.
Which people make me happy, i.e. who am I going to work to stay in touch with? Who have I prioritized that maybe isn’t healthy for me, or worse, isn’t prioritizing me back?
What have I discovered that I like, i.e. what activities and things will I make time for? Am I currently putting energy towards these, or am I still accommodating outdated or contrived passions?
What about me, as a person, am I unsatisfied with, i.e. how do I want to be perceived in this next chapter of my life?
Amid big changes, like the end of one chapter and beginning of another, it can be a struggle to stay in control and confident. But this time, I am embracing the uncertainty and re-branding it as an opportunity to refocus and reevaluate. I’ll renew what I enjoy, and discard what I don’t. I’m starting to think that maybe this is why we have new chapters (especially when we aren’t ready for our current one to end) – to push us into setting up our own keep and sell boxes when we are confused or stagnating. Maybe that’s their purpose, particularly when we’re struggling to see the purpose.
