Song of the day: 'Milo' - Matt the Electrician
I woke up this morning to weak drizzles outside the window, illuminated beneath the streetlamp outside my bedroom window. My roommate was trudging around the room in snow boots and a winter coat, preparing for the trek to her first class of the morning. At 9:20, an hour before my class, I rolled out of bed lethargically and made my way to the showers. around 10:00, I decided it was time to start thinking about going to class, so I went downstairs, got a cup of coffee, and then slowly proceeded back upstairs to my first class. Never before have I felt so blessed to be in the RCAH than the moment I woke up and realized I didn't have to leave the building in the disgustingly dismal weather.
I can't believe it's 2008 already. When did that happen? Weren't we graduating yesterday? The class of 2007 is truly a thing of the past now, whether we like it or not. We have three and a half years left to savor what has become an expected collegiate education. And then what? Graduate school, I suppose, or maybe even a job. But suddenly things are moving quickly. I'm struggling to hold on to memories that keep fading away. What happened to the summer of Beauty and the Beast? What happened to sitting on the front steps until your ass got numb, but you just couldn't tear yourself away from the dwindling conversation?
In my photographic essay class today, my professor said something quite profound. He had a picture of a sign hanging on a door of a men's bathroom that read 'Door locks only when closed'. At first, I found it humorous. Of course the door locks only when closed. An obvious statement, right? Can a door really lock if it's open? What's the point? But then Professor Cooper went on to explain how that simple sign had changed his life. He looked at it metaphorically. He explained how different events and chapters in a person's life were represented by doors. In putting an end to these chapters, we are closing the door, and therefore locking it permanently. Our lives are filled with hallways of locked doors, and all we can do is stand before them and reminisce about what lies behind them. However, in stumbling upon this realization, he continued by explaining that we can leave some doors open, doors that hold extreme importance in our life, and in doing so, we can always go back through the door and learn more from what lingers beyond. In letting me in on his secret, he has taught me that with extreme caution and patience, I can choose which doors to close and which to leave open.
I think I'll like that class a lot.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have several chapters of the Odyssey to read.
Of course, had I paid attention and not incorrectly read eight chapters of the Iliad instead, I wouldn't still be reading by now. BUT. We all make mistakes.
