This early phase of November has brought rain and fog to Northeastern Pennsylvania. As I write this, I sit at a raised vantage point on Marywood’s campus. The valleys of Lackawanna Country unroll before this third story window. Within my line of sight there are likely hundreds of thousands of people living their lives, all too distant and sheltered by walls and roofs for me to see in any real detail. The mind can be quite the restless, unwieldy entity.
I have a nagging feeling that I am approaching a significant juncture in my life. In a year’s time, I will no longer be formally considered a student. For the first time in sixteen years, academics will not be giving structure to my day-to-day existence. What will be?
This is a question that has been slyly hanging over my head for as long as I can remember. What will center me? Will I leave the place I’ve grown up? Move to a city? Trade the trees for skyscrapers? I feel confident about finding employment and having something to do, but will it satisfy me? Will it provide space for me to grow as a human being? In the past few months my life has been entirely redefined. I have experienced immensely difficult losses, forged new relationships, and learned startling things about the person that I am. I do not see the turbulence relenting anytime soon. I think (and hope) that I am ready.
Martin Lambert is a junior digital media major. When he’s not in class he spends time writing, watching films, making films, and enjoying music. He hopes to one day make a living through his passions.