It’s almost the end of another semester again. I can’t help, but think about how fast time flies. It’s almost scary— another semester gone, and only a few more to go before senior year. It seems like it was only yesterday when I first sat down on my usual seat in Doc Garcia’s class, my mind still unaware of the circumstances that will happen, my brain still empty from the knowledge I will gain, my heart still unscathed.Whenever I try to reflect on my memories of this semester, I remember some good times with my friends, classmates, and teachers. I also remember the stressful moments, cramming sessions, blurred deadlines, and frantic marathons during hell weeks and hells months. Sometimes, I wish that I could just stop time for even just a second to take a deep breath, recollect myself, and relive all those happy moments when I didn’t feel so stressed. Life is too short. Don’t be so stressed all the time.You only live once, as the young ones would say.
So many things have happened to me in a span of one semester— so many life-changing things that I never would have imagined— things my past self would never have imagined. I don’t want this blog post to sound all sappy and touchy-feely, but permit me to recount some of my experiences. I really can’t shake these feelings of anxiety, fear, and perhaps, nostalgia. This semester, I officially started my life as a double major, had my heart broken for the first time, lost some friends and gained a few, and met so many interesting people in events I’ve always dreamed of going to. I could say that the highest and lowest points of my life (so far) were contained in this semester. There were some days when I thought I was unbreakable— infinite even. But of course, there were some moments when I thought I was broken, unwanted, unfixable. During those moments of seeping loneliness, numbing heartache, and quiet confusion, how I wished I could turn back time and just warn myself from the future that lies ahead. Now wouldn’t that be a safer way to live? But as I reflected deeper, I realized that if those low points in my life never happened, I wouldn’t be where I am right now. I wouldn’t be the exact same person. I wouldn’t have the same realizations, maturity level, experiences, personality, thoughts, feelings, wisdom (perhaps), and (maybe even) attitude. Sure, I might be better off not experiencing those sad events, but I feel, I know, and I acknowledge that I wouldn’t have grown if it weren’t for those circumstances. After all, diamonds only form under extreme pressure.
Forgive me if I’m quite slow on the uptake, but I admit that I just now realized what this means: “the more one changes, the more one stays the same.”This quote makes me think of a book— how our lives mimic the format of a novel, how the circumstances we experience are recorded in the chapters of this book, and how a chapter only begins when the one before it ends. I realized that the more we live our lives, the more our stories unfold. Our actions, memories, daily interactions, and encounters with other people provide the words for these chapters— they lead us to the formation of our being. Things that happen to us affect us in a certain way and influence the formation of our identity. We are the synthesis of our experiences. It’s true that the quote seems to be contradicting itself, but I think that the changes we experience constantly help us affirm our being— our sense of self, that even if we’ve grown, we’re still us and this is still our life. It is true that when we get older, we might understand. Indeed, everything happens for a reason.
