Home, Jeeves!

I was walking home from my class on prose fiction today. The leaves on the underlying branches of the magnificent trees lining the sidewalk brushed my head as meandered by. (I really wish I knew anything about dendrology, and could tell you what kind of trees are scattered over campus. Calling an oak a tree does it very little justice. Even the title oak connotates much more than any description I could render.) The leaves on these trees were still monotonously green, all the coloured leaves presumadely blown off and drenched on the sidewalk during the weekend rain. The anesthetic aura no doubt originated from the overcast sky above me. I scuffed my Converse Chuck Taylors along the damp sidewalk as I disregarded the rust coloured leaf fragments adhered to the path ahead of me despite the fact that I was staring downward. The air was cool and crisp foreshadowing a resurgence of my jacket.

We all want to do something with our lives. I believe that is why we find ourselves at institutions like Mount Allison which allow us to specialize in an area to prepare us for the world which we sooner or later must find ourselves entering. But what happens when we (or namely, I) find ourselves stuck? Instead of growing up into these young adults with endless possibilities, we just realize that we're stuck inside this box which despite our growing, seems to be remaining static. It is a realization that can make one feel as if suddenly walls are closing in. Can we ever find something and be the best at it? I have no doubt in my mind that some people can. I am lucky to have great friends who will, or already have begun to excel at whatever they chose do in life, and I read about real people on the internet who are doing fantastic things. Good on you! Yet, where do I fit into the equation? What does one do when they feel like they missed that day in heaven where God handed out the talents? Maybe I was sick or something.

When we were little, we were told we could be whatever we wanted to be; a teacher, a pilot, an astronaut, the Prime Minister of Canada, or heck, even a fire truck. And now I find myself looking over an empty landscape. Instead of broadening, my opportunities have narrowed and I feel as if I have already failed. I try to shape shift to fit countless moulds, but no matter what, none seem quite right.

And yet, on I trudge.

As I walked up the street and approached my own, I looked up from the sidewalk, and saw the most incredible blue before me. It was such a vivid contrast between the dull grey around it. I turned the corner onto my street and felt a warmth upon my shoulder and my arm. The sun was taking every opportunity to shine through this cloudbreak. The sidewalk stopped looking so bleak, the trees started coming back to life, and as I walked into my room, the fragrance of lilies filled my senses.