Every so often we experience moments of shaking truth and self-realization. Well, at least I do–
I can’t definitively say the same for the rest of humanity, though I suspect that at least one person out the seven billion out there has similar moments. For me these moments are similar to growing, during which it seems that your height remains the same for months and months, and then in a moment you look back and realize that only months ago you weren’t able to see over the counter. For me, when understanding and perspective suddenly grace my perception, it feels monumental. It’s as if I have suddenly uncovered a great truth about myself. Maybe “uncovered” isn’t the right word–”accepted” is probably better. Change, generally speaking, is a difficult thing for people. Among the people I’ve known, even when a change in life is painstakingly sought, planned, and awaited for, when it comes to that moment when it comes down to actually follow through with the change it is often times difficult, or even scary. Like moving, for example. Or changing jobs. Or getting married–I am the first to admit that, though I was extremely excited, I was also terrified at the same time. It has, of course, been the best decision of my life, but the night before I was really scared and didn’t get much sleep. Furthermore, these are all changes that take loads of time to plan for and develop. Changes that occur suddenly can be terrifying.
One of the bigger changes I have made was to transfer from Brigham Young University to Boston University. This was one of those planned changes, and one that I, like everyone, had to apply for. So I knew it was coming. However, the way I deal with change is to simply put the fact of the matter out of my mind. In other words, I refuse to acknowledge that a change has occurred, and simply go about life as if I had been living like that my entire life. I don’t think this is the healthiest way to go, if anyone is wondering. This generally leads to a lot of subconscious stress build-up, which manifests itself in blowing simple tasks I need to do way, way out of proportion.
Anyways, transferring to BU was rocky for me, to say the least, but mainly because I insisted that it be that way. Applications were actually relatively easy–it wasn’t hard getting in. Getting used to getting in was a lot tougher. It started the week after I got my acceptance letter, and I was informed that in order to register for classes I would have to attend an orientation session. This meant staying overnight in a dorm room, with a bunch of incoming freshmen and other transfer students. I was applying for admissions to the 2009-2010 school year. I had finished two years of college, plus taken two years off to serve a mission. All of the students who graduated high school the same year I did had just graduated (mostly–there were a few stragglers, like myself). So I was four years older than a lot of the people at my orientation session. Plus, even though I had only completed two years of university, I had been officially enrolled for four, so going to an orientation session as a fourth-year college student seemed really redundant. I was not terribly happy about. On top of it all, I was living in Boston, and I was required to stay on campus. Really lame. Needless to say, when I finally broke down and signed up for the orientation, I did so with a bad attitude. I really wanted to hate it. Genuinely. I thought that I would be out-of-place, so I made myself out-of-place. My attitude affected how I acted, and I didn’t have a terribly good experience.
That was the first of my transferring woes. The second came when I learned that, in order to get more than just elective credit for my classes, I had to turn in certain forms proving that the classes I took were equivalent to BU classes. This is, in my current opinion, perfectly reasonable, and wasn’t a problem at all. However, I took this as an insult to my education. Why didn’t the transfer office look at the school from which I was coming and understand that I had all the requirements? This seemed like a load of work. It is now excellent evidence of how I blow the incredibly simple tasks way out of proportion when I have subconscious, change-related stress.
The third transferring woe came when I actually became a student. It was hard moving from one system to another. I began having to take a train and rely on public transportation, I had to deal with early morning tests and self-righteous graduate student teaching fellows, in order to register for classes I had to meet with an adviser, I had to wear a lab coat in lab (this was hard), I had to get used to the smell of stale coffee in early morning classes, etc. Needless to say, I didn’t have the best attitude. But you wouldn’t have believed it from talking to me. I did a really good job of making people believe that I was happy where I was, and that I was having a good time. In retrospect, I wasn’t. Not academically, anyways–I was LOVING being in the same place as Claire.
That’s part of the realization I made last Friday. The other half was of the realization was that I absolutely love BU. I feel that I fit in more than I have at any other school I have attended. I have no doubt that it is the right university for me. I made this realization after taking my biochemistry final, while crossing the street in Kenmore square. I had that shaking moment of realization that I am really, really happy. I really wanted to hate BU at first, but I have ended up with more school spirit and sense of belonging than I have ever had.
I don’t think that I had any real reason to dislike BU when I first started attending. I think that my reaction to it is, however, an excellent case study in how I deal with change. Yes, BU is very different from BYU, despite having remarkably similar acronyms, and that’s precisely what I refused to acknowledge. As I kept trying to focus on how BU was like BYU, I failed to see how BU was uniquely BU, and because of that I was unable to fully fit in. However, even more foundational than that, I was refusing to allow myself to realize that a change had happened. As my guard broke down, and I started feeling more and more comfortable, all the things that had irked me and seemed like such a burden didn’t seem that bad. I started genuinely loving my university.
So Friday was a big day for me, not because I actually accepted that a change had occurred, but because I realized that I had accepted that a change had occurred (yeah, meta-acceptance). Unfortunately, coming to terms with change is not as easy as sitting down and making a conscious decision. Throughout the course of the last year I think that I really did want to love BU like I do now. However, change takes time. Even when events happen quickly, acceptance of those events can take much longer. Hopefully the next time I have to take a major step in my life I will be able to apply this experience and come to a real acceptance of whatever change has happened. Being married to a woman who is constant and and loving and caring (to the point of giving me physical therapy in her sleep, even when I don’t need it–now that is caring, in my opinion) certainly gives me a striking advantage. However, even if it does take a while before I am able to accept the change, at the very least I can hope for another moment when I look back and realize that I really do love how things have turned out.
