When a Sigur Ros soundtrack is playing through my earpiece and I’m on a long bus ride home little seems to be wrong with life. The good in this semester has been rather slow in appearing for me, but I’ve been very thankful for them. I’ve worked hard and planned my time to the best of my abilities. Good time management isn’t just about getting that three hour study session in order but knowing when you should rest, when you should be with people. The latter has been lacking because some alone time was needed, quite badly, during certain junctures in the semester. But I survived, and I’m glad I did.
This semester has been about facing up to all sorts of truths. The truth of university, the way it all hit us during our second year, so methodical, so unfeeling, so hyper-engorged with things to do. So tough, to sum it up. It hit us all off a fantastic summer and we didn’t even have the time or the people to complain to. We were left to either rot or flourish. Staying still was not an option. Work piled up and there was always something to do. We didn’t want to appear weak but in some way or another, we all were. At least I knew I was. There was also the truth of being in a leadership role of an organisation. How to know my shit when shit hit, how to get down to work when everyone was resting, how to deal with people at their best and their worst. How to deal with my own shortcomings, how to know things; just know things. Those were all challenges for me. I told myself time and again that this was exactly where I should be, and I’m going to stand by this endeavour until it bears fruit.
Dealing with people hasn’t been easy either. It has occured to me that in the course of our lives we either say too much or say too little. I’m in the latter category, and for that, I have suffered greatly. I didn’t say enough to the people that mattered even though I really wanted to. And yet. It doesn’t matter in the end. Because if, say, you really cared for someone you would just say these things and not hide them. But of course I didn’t. I cared greatly but I hid everything. And so I might as well not have cared. And so from how I see matters now, things should have played out like they did, and they did. And all there’s left to do is to pick up the pieces and trudge on.
On a lighter note, running has been a joy. I have been doing four runs a week for the entire semester thus far. I ran even when I was sick, ran when it was midnight through unlit paths. I waited for trainings as if they were the only things to look forward to. And sometimes I honestly believed they were. I don’t like excuses when it comes to the things I love; it’s either I go all out or don’t do anything at all. Of course, I chose the former for this case, and I’ve developed a laser focus. From devoting an independent laundry cycle for running clothes to just wearing my shoes and taking the lift down, I got the whole routine down to a science. Day in and day out, it’s apparent that if you love to do something you’ll make time for it. I just think of the entire year that I’d waited due to injury and would do anything to run again. And now I’m running again. What greater privilege is there?
And so my semester looked like that. Missed opportunities but many gained as well. I’ve needed a lot of patience and discipline to see that. But it is early days as yet. A lot of strength is yet to be sought and gained. A lot remains to be learnt. I acknowledge that I don’t have the same energy as I did one year ago but with the loss in energy inevitably comes experience. I think a lot can still be said about going through these tough times but I will not indulge in that just yet. All I hope is that the year end post will find me in optimistic hands.