this I believe

In our brief time at Centre, each of us undergoes experiences that begin to define what we believe – or at least that's what we are told.  Until the fall semester of senior year, I lived the life of a pretty normal Centre student: being involved in way too many things, working hard to get decent grades, and developing relationships that I had faith would last beyond my Centre career.  But when that dreaded last “first day of school” came around, I found myself unsatisfied in the all-too-familiar motions of another overcommitted my most-committed semester yet/possible/ever.

Initially, I dropped a few commitments to ease the burden – I just needed to trim the fat, right?  Even if I wasn’t fully invested in my activities, I was obligated to 3 main time consumers, and I would make it work.  Life was pretty decent, and I was enjoying myself when I stopped to breathe every once in a while.  My planner was chock full of meetings to attend, to-do lists, mindless doodles, and the extra homework that comes with two upper level math courses.  And a few weeks into school, I was surviving on multiple cups of coffee per day, but I was making it.  My sleep schedule was all kinds of crazy, and five and a half hours of sleep a night was just enough to keep my eyes open and heart beating.  Nothing really seemed wrong, but then again, nothing really seemed right either.

I won’t forget the conversation that woke me up.  It had been a long day – I was in one of those dungeon practice rooms in Grant basement banging my forehead on the battered keys of a piano when a friend of mine asked one of those “defining-moment” questions:

What are you passionate about?

And I wasn’t sure what to say.

I was a math major that was burning out on math.  I was a fraternity president getting frustrated at my brothers and isolating myself.  I wasn’t interested in what I was studying or reading for class, much less doing any studying or reading.   I was a brother who didn’t always return calls or texts.  I was a son who called home once or twice a month.  I was a piano player who only made music because that was the only way I had found to let others see who I really was.

I had “passions”, but I wasn’t living my life with them.  I pleased other people, continually building up an impossible image for myself to attain.  Though I was “making it work”, I wasn’t living true to myself.

So for the rest of my time at Centre, I have decided to relentlessly pursue my passions by investing myself in the life and world that surround me.

“What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit his very self?”

It’s no good – that’s what I believe.