115 days ago, I boarded a flight from Philadelphia to Copenhagen, Denmark.
The girl who stepped onto that plane is not even remotely similar to the one who returned to the States on August 1st. My time abroad taught me so much about myself and what I want the rest of my life to look like. I realized the world is so much bigger than Fayetteville, Arkansas, and so am I. While I’ve always been the daughter who said I would go far, the intensity and desire to bring that statement to fruition has now consumed me.
My mornings are presently filled with attempts to recreate slow sunrise breakfasts in Kongens Have. My evenings, reminiscing on seemingly endless nights and a sense of freedom that can only be described as euphoric. Ever since arriving back in Arkansas, I have felt a deep sense of indirection that, while my time home has been nothing short of bustling and fulfilling in its own way, is insatiable. Grappling with the fact that each day that passes is another that separates me more from the summer that changed my life, has left me feeling reflective in ways I have never experienced.
The Scandi Way
After getting to know some locals quite well, I quickly realized that it is normal for Nordics to take a few gap years after graduating high school before starting university.
During this time, they work, travel, relax, and find themselves. They discover their interests, their dislikes, experience and travel the world while working to do so. Their lives aren’t in a constant state of anticipation. Not anticipating the next chapter, the next class, the next job, the next internship, the next career opportunity, or even the next plan. While I recognize that these are quite large generalizations and may not be true for a large part of the Nordic population, I attest that conversations about this time spent just existing, changed the way that I view my own personal journey.
This summer, existing in a society that just moves slower, especially education-wise, forced me to take in how rapidly my life has been moving up to this point. While I feel that I hold all the knowledge of the universe and everything that has ever existed at 21, I know that I have so much life ahead of me. In a way, I am grateful to be a part of a system that has essentially set me up to be a fully functioning, 401(k) earning adult at the ripe age of 21. I also mourn the alternative route where I had the time to get to know myself and my passions before choosing the path that defined the rest of my life.
Next Steps & Final Thoughts
I do see the hypocrisy in including an actionable next steps section directly after exclaiming that we don’t always have to have a plan but, at the end of the day, I am fueled by to-do lists. It would be wrong to not reflect a bit on what I want moving forward with my senior year of college (I got nauseous typing that).
The ache of emptiness that has followed me all the way from Copenhagen Airport is not something I want to ignore. I feel that I have to go further than I ever have. But, this ache has provided me with a new bout of ambition. Ask anyone who knows me, and you will find that I am not one to not set a goal, so this is not new for me. But, this time, the goal is to find myself like I did this summer; whatever that entails. Does that mean moving states? Countries? Starting more school? Starting a job? I wish I knew the answer. These questions lord over my daily life like a cloud lurking on a sunny day.
While I morphed into a new version of myself that I love so deeply this summer, I have found that I am still me. I am afraid. I am afraid of what’s next, or what’s not next. I am so afraid of not reaching the goals I set for myself. In order to remind myself each day that I can do it, and that I am capable, I put sticky notes on my bathroom mirror. This is something I would’ve laughed at four months ago. Those physical daily reminders, while trivial to some, act as the fuel to my ambition I am so desperately clinging to. Each and every day that passes I consider what’s next, but I also know that the time I am living in right now is something I will never get back. So, my plan? To enjoy it.
So, my advice to you? Enjoy it. Enjoy each and every slow moment, but don’t be afraid to work as hard as you can to go as far as possible. And in case you were wondering, the sticky note on my bathroom mirror says:
“By believing passionately in something that still does not exist, we create it. The non-existent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired.”
Franz Kafka
