Finals Week Epiphanies

I wrote this sometime last week, and after writing a horrible blog to be posted later about pretending to be someone else, I thought this piece would prove sufficiently ironic:


This isn't what I need to be doing, in a deadline sense, but this is exactly what I need to be doing for a holistic person sense.

I'm content to be me.

I may not write the most poetic Romans papers, or the most insightful Kierkegaard review, but I like the way I write.

I like that my blog makes little sense and that half my sentences are grammatically incorrect — or at the very least dysfunctionally long.

I may not run marathons in under 3 hours or lift 997 lbs at the gym, but I like the shape I'm in.

I like that I run to obnoxious hip-hop sometimes and the Economist others. I like that my main reason for running is that the city is beautiful and I like to watch the sun sparkle on the sides of the building while waves gently crash on Oak Street beach made of imported sand and fake palm trees.

I may not understand quantum physics or even key historical events, but I like the way I learn.

I like the way I pour my heart into a class discussion, the way I read a textbook and conclude that the author's sentences were captivating, even if the text was not. I like that at the end of every article, I can tell you five things I hated and three that I like, but fail every question that asks what the big idea was.

I may not be impressive. I may not be the top of my class. I may not cure AIDS. I may not spend all my spare time working with children in the ghetto or planting community gardens for the poor. I may never be famous, or even relatively known, but I will always be me and today I'd have it no other way.