Sometimes existing means being pushed down a steep hill where you snowball the stress of life on your way to “the bottom.”
“The bottom” can be many things. It can be the relief you were waiting for while rolling through despair. Even if it means your bones are broken, at least you are no longer going through different obstacles anymore.
For me, “the bottom” is going home after a long day of classes and work to sink into a pit where I stare at my ceiling, thinking anxiously about the never-ending scroll of my to-do list, which features several little unchecked boxes.
In other words, I would be in my bed pulling out my highlights of amazing (but not really) silver hairs with misty eyes, but it is all OK because I am in bed… right?
It all makes me want to take every clock and every piece of technology in my apartment that tells time so I can destroy them with a baseball bat.
Even if the relief would come from the false belief that I was destroying the construct behind the ticking hands within the clocks, it was still nice to feel like I was not a victim of Father Time for a moment that he created.
But recently, I have come to the realization that I need to focus and appreciate the things beyond the to-do lists and hair pulling.
Just this past week when I hit “the bottom,” I was in bed and I looked out my window and into the sea of corn outside of my apartment complex, setting my world into perspective.
Typically, my inner cynical, snarky voice would say, “Oh boy, the scenery of rural Illinois, how delightful,” but I have come to enjoy and appreciate the calm and quietness of where I live for the time being.
Sometimes I need to realize that there are so many worse places that I could be, so I should take the time to soak up the nice view outside my window, even if it is a flat field of crops.
Sure, I might be a little dramatic when I compare my stress levels to being thrown downhill, but at the end of the day, I am getting access to higher education and I have a roof to sleep under every night. Not to mention friendly roommates, one of whom has a dashing new dog named Oswald Eugene, also known as “Ozzy.”
Every once in a while, it is important to take a step back and reflect on how lucky you are to have what you do, especially when there are people out their who are not fortunate to have the same things.
Abbey Whittington is a junior journalism major and can be reached at 581-2812 or [email protected]