Yesterday was my first official college visit, ever. Seriously. When I selected my school in the early 80’s, economics ruled. The parameters set, the sole contenders public, in-state universities left little else to consider. In those days, like in any when constraints limit range, those who thrived accepted the foregone conclusion and entered the experience with excited anticipation. We were blessedly free of regret, free to embrace all the good in where we landed because there really were no other viable options. Visiting a school in the present day as I did with my sister and niece; however, opens your eyes to the possibilities, somehow making a decision as monumental as this feel suddenly seriously complicated.
How do we narrow the field when so many alternatives are available to us? How do we make decisions that bring us peace? How do we let go of the equivocation, stop vacillating between options, let ourselves make a choice and lean into it instead of remaining in a state of infinite wanting?
I struggle with this on a daily basis, with the most mundane of decisions. As recently as this morning, when faced with the option of hitting the snooze button on my alarm clock to catch the winks that had eluded me all week or rising super early to drive 25 minutes to run in a 10K race, I found myself debating my decision long after it was made. By opting not to go, was I potentially leaving my destiny at the starting line, the man of my dreams waiting there full of hope at the prospect of meeting me? Did I skirt yet another opportunity to meet people because I decided to skip this race? As I looked my unshowered self in the eye through my reflection in the bathroom mirror, pulling back into a pony tail my flat hair badly in need of some fresh color, I rationalized it all away by saying my plainness would just be lost amid the sea of younger, fresh-faced beauties running faster than I do anyway. Knowing that wasn’t the answer either, I ran instead in my neighborhood and challenged myself to take God with me.
Yes, I did say God. He’s not my usual running partner, but something my sister said yesterday reminded me once again that He is a secret weapon I usually neglect, sometimes the last arrow in my quiver to be pulled. My sister told the story of a recent situation where she was searching for the right words. The answer she received when she asked God to weigh in was to keep quiet and let the loved ones in her life speak instead. Often compelled to be the loudest voice, she received the shot in the arm she needed to seal her lips when the emotion of the moment literally rendered her speechless, a sign for certain that the right words for her were none at all. She found in her silence that those around her spoke more eloquently than she ever thought possible. That’s powerful stuff. That’s the power within, whether your beliefs about its source tend toward the spiritual or the secular.
My niece appears to be a shoe-in for the university we visited yesterday. She is brilliant, with the requisite test scores and grades as solid evidence those who are unfamiliar with her will need to feel confident about extending her an invitation to join their community. In return, they are offering her a customized program designed by administrators, professors and coaches interested in understanding her strengths and addressing not just academics, but sports, faith and life. She has as much to offer them as they have to offer her. Yet I felt her hesitation as acutely as if it were my own.
I can’t help but think that what differentiates her from her competitors, and where she’ll find the place that ultimately feels right, lies at the root of her choice to pursue physical therapy. In a beautifully written essay she talks about her experience growing up with a sibling who knows this practice intimately. Immersed so completely, she’s fully aware it involves so much more than fixing a privileged athlete’s sports injury. She witnesses its pure magic, the transforming powers invoked by imaginative and compassionate souls who change lives by treating the whole person. She lives the faith and strength it takes to make choices that shun the temptations of cosmetics and assimilation, in favor of enabling and empowering solutions that net an individual capable and anxious to pursue his full potential.
To get an idea of what I’m talking about, take a look at this video recently aired featuring her thirteen year-old brother: http://www.csnchicago.com/preps/news/Connor-McHugh-overcomes-odds?blockID=795587&feedID=661
When I think about where she could take this field with her unencumbered intelligence, untapped passion, and unmatched experience, it gives me goosebumps. Her brother knows more than most adults do about pursuing dreams. Unable to hide such visible differences right out of the gate, and blessed with a family that has always chosen to develop his physical strengths over attempting to shore up the weaknesses, has resulted in a boy who applies this approach to his own life. He has honed in on his intellectual strengths and interests, and freely and confidently follows them. He may say he’s missing “a couple of bones”. His sister, somewhere in the course of her college studies will be able to tell us exactly how many. And along the way, she’ll get closer to finding herself, too.
When I look at the choices, who wouldn’t be dazzled by the bigger schools with their bright lights, explosive social scenes and hype that their sheer size commands? Yet there is something so enticing, powerful and proven about a smaller community that supports the whole person. College is a big decision, no doubt, but in the big picture one step on a life-long journey of finding and developing purpose. Which one to attend is not make or break necessarily, but a tool to exploit on the path of life. What really matters is that along with the choice comes the commitment to embrace it. This comes from nowhere but within.
On this morning’s run, what came to me was the idea that maybe it’s not about meeting new people at every turn, but looking around occasionally to see if I’m missing someone right in front of me who wants in to my life. Also, the thought that one person, alone, cannot push everything over the finish line in one big shove, no matter how desirous that individual is. While there are those who would say they do it on their own, each of us has at some point leaned on some really caring people. It’s our job to surround ourselves with them, focus on what we’re really great at and, in the process, propel ourselves and those around us forward, one decision at a time.
My nephew is ultimately right, you know. If we’re brave enough to keep making small moves in the direction we want to go, it’s pretty likely we’ll end up where we really want to be.
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