What Does It Mean to be Productive, Exactly?

This summer, I've been struggling with all this extra time I've been afforded. For a high school student like me, summer means 2 and a half months of free time in which the options are limitless.
Or so we fool ourselves to believe.

In fact, many of us have expectations put upon us by our counselors, college admissions, parents, friends, and ourselves.
"What did you do this summer?" is a loaded question, that can be followed up by an array of loaded answers.

"What did you do this summer?" Absolutely kills me. In some cases, it's an effort to size people up, to make comparisons and to judge.
And sometimes it's an innocent question asked out of pure interest that unintentionally sets the inquired party on the defensive.
Do you answer with the volunteer work you performed in an underprivileged area, or the expensive vacation to a tropical island your parents paid for? Or is your main pride the job that you worked full time at and helped earn the down payment for your new car? Maybe the pool that you had put in, or the competition you won, or the travel team you joined. Anything.

I've been so conflicted on what my usage of this time really means. Does the fact that I knitted a pair of socks instead of going to practice for some sport really mean that I wasted my time? Or that I stay home and make sure the house is clean before my parents get home, what does that mean? That my priorities aren't in order? That I should be working my ass off for money to pay for a car or clothes or to put away for college? That I should be doing "important" things so college admissions panels know that I'm willing to do anything to get into college?

And then I have to think about what it means about my existence. What am I doing to achieve my purpose? And my answer to myself for the time being is "I have no idea". All I know is that I have a job I love, friends that I'm incredibly lucky to know, and the freedom to write what I want, create what I want, and spend time with my family. Let people say what they will, but I'm making my own decisions right now and that is all that matters.

Constraint vs. Freedom

"A healthy being welcomes constraint and freedom, the boundlessness of space an the exposure of space" - Yi-Fu Tuan

This quote really struck me today, and though I may not have the same interpretation as others, it means a lot to me.
It's something I’ve been struggling with lately… How much is too much when it comes to being “limitless” and expanding your horizons? Yes, it’s a noble cause, but should you violently reject all that makes you feel safe and comfortable for the sake of trying to find… what exactly?

When I go back to California, I feel safe, comfortable, and pretty much like I belong. More recently I have become scared that by going back, I will never want to leave and let myself explore the rest of the world. For that reason, I had the intention of not coming back for a long time. Long enough for myself to become comfortable somewhere else, so I would not be tempted to go back to California and stay there.

More recently, I’ve realized you can have both, and that it’s just a matter of being responsible. I believe that human beings should allow themselves to expand and learn and grow, and that it creates a healthy, strong, and independent brain. But at the same time, have someplace you can call home. Home doesn’t have to tie you down, but instead acts as a spring board for bigger and better things.

So go out of your comfort zone, try new things, visit new countries, read books and try new ideas on for size. You are free. But at the same time, have a home that reminds you of your beginnings… if anything, a place where you can come back to and see how much you’ve grown since then.

Sunsets

When you’re driving home from work, or sitting on your back porch in the evening, how do you feel? As you watch the sky fade from blue to pink to orange to red then dark blue, do you sit there and gauge how successful the day has been, or revel in the beauty?

Neither one is supposed to be a correct answer as to how you should feel. Please, don’t let me tell you that one is better than the other. But just think for a moment, what is your general attitude to this beautiful daily occurrence?

Now fast forward a several decades, and your time is coming to an end. You’ve reached your very own sunset. How do you feel? Do you think back on everything that you’ve accomplished, or do you still marvel at the latest birth in the new family, the beginning of a new life that will far outlast your own?

Again, neither is right or wrong. But you can’t deny that there is a connection.

Unpopular Opinion, Confession, Call it What You Will:

I don’t believe that we should be celebrating an individual’s death, no matter the horrid things he has done. He is still a human being, and has come and passed like all the rest of us.

Relief, gratefulness, and sheer shock are what I’m feeling right now, but I don’t think I could ever forgive myself for thinking it is ever okay to be happy or joyful that he “got what he deserved”.

I don’t believe today should be a national holiday, or something to be remembered for the ages. Rather it is just another day with a little less threat. The world is still a dangerous place.

Snow, or Nature's Journal

It comes that time every year, when the days get shorter and the hours are filled with a cold that seeps into your bones. The trees that were once so vibrant and colorful have shaken the last of the brown, crinkled leaves off of their fingers to expose their skeleton to the world. The world that is pulling its shades down, turning the thermostat up, and pulling its sweaters out of the closet.

As society hunkers down, it is truly nature's time to shine once more. Mother nature defies what most human's have been conditioned to think: That even in the midst of death, beauty can arise.

I happened to notice this beauty in the form of snow today. What I have previously viewed as a nuisance, something that gives us humans more work in the form of shoveling, dressing our tires with chains, and attempting to keep warm, is actually one of the best gifts:

Take yourself out to a field just after a snow storm. Let the sun be at a morning angle, nearly straight above, but not quite, and just let yourself gaze. Look at your feet as they trek a path through the untouched swath of white, look to the trees, capped with little tufts. It seems like such an elementary thing, something that can just be relegated to "precipitation" and the percent chance of it falling.

Or you can revel in the fantastic chance that is the combination of these countless amounts of frozen pieces. These frozen pieces coming together to form the landscape of which you are now observing. And this untouched field has just as many possibilities as the snowflakes did when they fell: you can continue forward, backward, side to side, fall down, crawl, bring someone with you. Bring 100 people with you. Have a snow ball fight. Stay for an hour. Stay for a day.
And while doing all of this, the snow will document it for you. With every step, a shoe appears. With every collapse of exhaustion, the wrinkles of your clothes leave thousands of marks, pressing the snow together to create a mold of your own body. It is your own personal catalogue of movement and choices, laid out for you to see with your own two eyes.

It is Nature's Journal.