I fell in love with this video over the summer for several reasons. Obviously, for starters, the kid is adorable- as an aunt to two nieces and two nephews, I have a soft spot for cute kids. Second, and probably more significantly, I practically grew up in a dentist chair. I was on the receiving end of more unfortunate dental injuries than I'd care to list; I remember that feeling of confusion and disorientation a little too well. Finally, though- and here's the kicker- this video cracks me up because I'm privy to some knowledge that young David wasn't aware of: it's all temporary. He probably went home, took a nap, and woke up completely aware of his surroundings again. He'll probably watch this video when he's older and laugh just as much as I did (assuming, of course, that he doesn't develop some kind of complex that skews how child Youtube stars view their own funny moments further down the road).
The point is- and I promise this is all going somewhere- I've realized this week just how temporary this whole experience really is. For 2 1/2 months now, everything has looked different. I wake up in the morning to different views, different ways of seeing the world around me. It all seems similar enough to what I know that I can recognize it more or less, but I still find myself wondering, is this real life? And is everyone watching me, smiling, maybe even chuckling, waiting for me to grow up enough to see how adorably, naively silly I look?
The temporality of my Asian pseudo-life isn't the only factor in this internal questioning, though. I think my awareness of the finite aspect of my time here is heightened by the fact that I just registered for my final semester at Stetson the other night. Why did I ever think that four months here would pass any slower than the blink of the past three years? Further, who was I kidding when I thought that coming here would distract me from the fact that I'm graduating in 6 1/2 months? I can't just coast through this semester on dreams of spring break and summer. I have to find an internship, write my senior research paper, and figure out what I'm going to do with my life once Pomp & Circumstance stops playing.
Don't get me wrong- I'm genuinely excited about testing the waters of journalism outside of The Reporter and this humble little blog of mine. My perennial independence streak is looking forward to life after college. I'm even looking forward to senior research (which might be further proof that I really am on some kind of mind-altering plane of existence, like our gap-toothed friend). For now, though, I can't reconcile what I know, what I see, and how I feel. I feel funny, and no matter how many people say "it's ok, buddy," I can't fully grasp what being ok looks like in comparison to what I see all around me.
David dealt with everything by screaming. I guess this post counts as my equivalent. I'll look back on this and laugh.
...right?
Hey Natalie,
ReplyDeleteAll of these things do have a way of fitting in the puzzle we call life, albeit sometimes finding the right piece takes more time than we expected - but eventually we piece the puzzle together and the picture emerges! And as always, we step back and gaze with pride at our masterpiece that required hard work, dedication and perseverance ! As you reflect back on your first 2 months you begin to see the image in your puzzle and you are halfway there in its completion. There are many more pieces to find and once you do, you then have the task to make them fit. I can only tell you that as we at home hang on every word, photo and thought you so generously exchange with us, the picture becomes clearer and the image on the puzzle is coming together. I love you and am so excited you took this opportunity. Can't wait to hear about Bejing! (read: another piece to add). And when you look back on this amazing adventure you will see so much more than you ever imagined. Love madre~