Dejectedly, I drowned my sorrows in some Creamery chocolate milk and a mint brownie (of course) - while taking a lovely little nighttime stroll around my alma mater.
Being back around BYU has been a funny experience for me since leaving six years ago. As I've mentioned before, every square inch of that campus is crammed full of some memory for me. "There's the hill where I had a DTR with my First Kiss after he ripped my heart from my chest and did a flamenco on it. It was so rewarding to stand up for myself in that situation!" (For the record, First Kiss and I are still good friends - in hindsight, it wasn't that bad... but at 18, it felt like the WORLD, y'know?)
"That's the lawn where I studied for my San Francisco class - with my toes entwined in the grass, of course, feeling a little like a hippie at heart."
"Here's the route I loved to take between classes the year I liked the basketball star because our paths always crossed that way - not that he ever noticed, of course."
"It was while reading in this spot with Cute Humanities Boy that he mentioned he had a girlfriend. Oh, how devastating it was to see him the next fall and he was married!"
And the list goes on.
For years, this emotional barrage was so overwhelming, it made me dread campus visits. While it was fun to catch up with friends there while I was in town, somehow it always hurt deeply. I was so immensely happy during my college years. Sure, there were difficulties, but BYU fit me like a glove, and leaving it was easily one of the hardest things I've ever done - especially when my Orange County life never fit quite right. It was good enough... but I was never as happy there as I was at BYU, and campus strolls always served as a reminder of that, and of the missteps and mistakes I made as an undergrad. If only I knew then what I know now!
But tonight's stroll was... different.
Instead of viewing campus as a mausoleum wherein the unfulfilled dreams of my late teens and early 20s were laid to rest forever, tonight campus was this homey launching pad for the amazing life I have today: "There's the Kennedy Center, where I'd always pore over the Study Abroad programs and dream of going (but never apply). Ah, well, I'll get to Spain someday." "Oh, the fishbowl classroom where I took New Testament from Stephen E. Robinson (of Believing Christ fame) is now a study lounge! Things always change, even if they seem the same." The Testing Center, the SWKT, the JSB - everything seemed so peaceful and familiar in a totally positive way. It felt like a childhood home should be - warmly nostalgic, but so clearly not current life, and that's totally fine.
Which makes sense. I'm finally so secure and content with pretty much every aspect of my life. Really, I can't complain - and the happy memories from BYU no longer supersede my present because my present is way better than those days were. It's a great reminder of the vitality of living fully present in the moment, for we have experiences in their season for a reason. It's great for now, but it won't always be this way. Children grow up. Seasons change. Jobs come and go. Hair thins, waistlines thicken, and life marches merrily along. It's neither good nor bad - it just is.
These thoughts reminded me of a line in Sweet Home Alabama, where the dreamy Josh Lucas character reminds Reese Witherspoon's character that she "can have roots and wings." Isn't that such a wonderful truth?! We can appreciate where we've been for who it's made us today, but it should never hinder us from soaring into the unlimited possibilities the future holds, especially when there are important, unique roles for us to each fulfill in this great big world of ours. The joy is in discovering what that is and then making it happen - not in dwelling on the good times behind.
BYU was where I broke free of the limiting cocoon of my childhood and started to strengthen my wings. Thankfully the journey didn't end there - the best vistas and flowers and horizons are yet to come.
Eat your heart out, Errol Flynn!
