Take the Time

A big theme at Whitworth this spring semester has been "balance." An administrator put together a report on Whitworth culture, and one of the 11 points was the idea that Whitworth students, for whatever reason, tend to "always be busy." Whether that's running around from student government job to Frisbee game to band concert all in the same night, or even just the perception that time is always escaping us, it's a definite vibe on campus. For most.

Going into college, I knew that the lifestyle I led in high school was not going to cut it anymore. After a junior and senior year that included two varsity sports, the Altitude, club volleyball, a relationship, six AP classes, a part-time job, two other almost relationships, church youth group, a district investigation, and trying to support my friends in their other activities, I was pooped. Sarah always would tell me to just "chill out." This is to you, Sarah: I'm finally listening.

Last night, I looked at my day today and perceived another frantic, pit-stained frenzy. (To be fair, the pit stains come regardless of stress levels. Oh the wonders of overactive sweat glands.) I didn't have essay writing in the morning, but after my afternoon class I was booked straight until 6 p.m. with interviews, training, and other meetings. I knew on top of that I had another draft of my literary essay due, a chunk of reading, and a scholarship to finish. On the surface, my life seemed no different from my usual patterns of stress.

But after two walks around campus with James, dinner and two innings of the Mariners, and an hour of just laying still and breathing, I realized that we are only as busy as we let ourselves believe. Sure, I had a lot of list items in my planner to check off, and the list will probably loom for at least another two hours. But I'm more relaxed that I have been in at least a month. It's all in the attitude, in our perception of stress, and not necessarily the stress itself. I could have a day with one meeting and be freaking out. I could have a day with 10 meetings and midterms and be perfectly in control. It's all in taking the time for the little things, like walking around the Loop or cheering on Bloomquist for part of the 8th inning. Sure, they took "time." But that hour break seemed like the longest hour of the day. I wasn't rushed, I wasn't running around, I just existed. And sometimes, that's all it takes.