Finding Joy in Stillness

After weeks of non-stop projects, presentations and exams, I was finally back in my childhood home, petting my dog and sitting in front of my Christmas tree. And it was wonderful, of course, that the business and anxiety that made up the end of the semester had finally ceased. It was wonderful to take a breath, to finally get a good night’s sleep and to remember that I have hobbies that are not schoolwork.

At the same time, it felt very jarring. I am used to breaking up my time with lengthy to-do lists and detailed plans of how every hour should be spent to achieve maximum productivity. I am used to judging my days based on what I got done instead of how I felt. When there is nothing left to do, I often find myself unsure of how to feel.

College has been an interesting stage of my life. I feel like I should always be doing something productive. There is, of course, the focal point — the endless stream of schoolwork that categorizes the four-year trek to my degree. But in the backdrop, there are also so many other things. There are clubs and organizations, a wide variety that differs for every student. For me, this consists of my sorority, this wonderful writing organization and the a cappella group where I am serving as president this year. I love each club and organization that I have the privilege of being a part of, but I cannot deny that they add another layer of work and obligation to my life. 

Of course, there is also the constant balancing act of maintaining a social life. In college, it can often seem like everyone around you is doing something fun all the time. As such, it takes work to spend enough time with the people I care about while still prioritizing my other commitments and personal well-being.

For me, college means constant movement. Whether I am spending time with my friends, participating in my organizations or dealing with a barrage of schoolwork, I am always moving. I am never still.

When winter break arrived, my life of movement slowed to a stop. There were no projects to get ahead on and no plans to get ready for. As I tried to relax and enjoy my current state, part of me panicked. I could not help but think I was “wasting time,” and that my lack of productivity rendered me useless.

When I looked past my gut reaction, I realized this was not true. Constant productivity is not feasible for anyone, nor is constant movement. In fact, in hindsight, I can see all the burnout and hurt that this mindset has caused me. It is important for me to take time for myself — time to put aside my to-do list and rest. Of course, my acknowledgment of this fact does not make it any easier to live out in real life. I will be the first to admit that I am uncomfortable in stillness. And perhaps this is the reason I have packed my schedule so heavily in college: to avoid stillness at all costs.

I am still working to unlearn my discomfort around resting and taking a break. I am still working to unlearn my discomfort around being still. But the challenge does not mean that it is not a worthwhile endeavor. 

This winter break, I took the time to be present in the moment and to find meaning in things that did not elevate my social life or help my GPA. I took the time to experience joy while I was not moving: joy in stillness. 

So as I jump headfirst into this new semester, I will carry this new joy with me. As I balance my coursework, social life and extracurriculars these next few months, I will do my best to prioritize moments of stillness.