Riding the winds of change
Colleen Gaughen
Senior Staff Writer
Well, this is it.
The moment weÕve been either anxiously awaiting or pretending wouldnÕt happen. We are so happy to be done at last, yet we are strangely sad that itÕs really over. Where did all the time go? We blinked, and all of a sudden our senior year is over and we are actually graduating.
It was raining when I packed up my room last week. The wind was blowing like crazy during that hot summer storm, and all my paperwork scattered across my floor in the wind. I was going through old pictures and letters and notebooks and lame SYR gifts, and it hit me when I realized that I wasnÕt sorting my crap into separate piles. Everything was going home. For good. There was no Ōhall storage,Ķ or Ōlocal storageĶ pile, no Ōstash this at a friendÕs apartmentĶ pile, and I wasnÕt wondering whether or not I could sell this or that when I got back.
I wasnÕt coming back.
I donÕt live here anymore, and itÕs not just my room. ItÕs this whole place. We really donÕt live here anymore. We are not coming back next fall, and neither will the people we care about most here. We canÕt rely on running into them next semester to maintain our friendships anymore. We will have to actually pick up the phone and make an effort. When we graduated from high school, we knew that when we came home during the Christmas and summer holidays, everyone else would be home, too. We knew that we could always catch up then. We had a solid home base, safe, stable and dependable. But here, we wonÕt all come back for Christmas or summer; there is no guarantee that we will see everyone again. (Football games donÕt count.)
As hard as we will try to keep in touch, we may never see some of our closest friends here ever again. The winds of change are blowing. Opportunities are taking us to different careers, different states, and even different countries. We have all learned so much from one another, but itÕs time to say goodbye. And itÕs okay to say goodbye.
The beautiful people who have drifted in and out of our lives here undoubtedly will be missed, but they will also be remembered. Some have burst in on wild winds of change, and some have floated in on breezes so gentle we take for granted their quiet constancy. We came to college. They moved in next door. We had the same class together. They asked us out. We worked the same shifts. They taught a cool course. ThereÕs just something about the way they seemed to understand.
Then just as suddenly, or just as softly, they are gone. Vanished from our daily lives, leaving only footprints in our memories. We move off-campus. They change. We have opposite schedules. They get sick. We change. They go abroad. We break up. They switch jobs. We get in a fight. They become RAs or varsity athletes.
We graduate.
Yet I wonder if itÕs more than mere circumstance that first draws people together and then drives them apart. Perhaps thereÕs a higher design guiding the flow of people in and out of our lives. Perhaps others are given to us to fulfill a need, share a moment, or teach us a lesson we didnÕt even know we needed to learn. And once weÕve learned it, they are carried away by the winds of change to help someone else. Or perhaps we are the ones being swept along to help another, heal a hurt or unknowingly teach a lesson.
Or maybe itÕs all one big game of chance. We just happen to be in the same place at the same time. ThereÕs no higher design, no deeper destiny, no grandiose plan. Life is pure coincidence and there is no particular force pushing or pulling any of us in a particular direction. We just are.
Whatever we believe about destiny, divine intervention or the utter absence of either, when you stop and look around, it cannot be denied that special people float in and out of our lives in beautiful and mysterious ways. Sometimes we can do something about it, but other times we just canÕt. Like rainy weather patterns, the winds of change come and go. Sometimes they carry us on and sometimes they take us back, but always, always, they move us to where we might otherwise never have dared to go.
Change is hard. But we canÕt fear it. We need to embrace it, love it, live it. And we wonÕt be alone. You know how certain people here can remind us of people from back home? The people we will meet in our new jobs and uncertain graduate schools and exciting service projects will remind us of those we knew here at Notre Dame and Saint MaryÕs in the same way.
The spirit that binds us to this place and to each other will never die; it will simply carry us on and send a gentle breeze when we need a reminder. ItÕs never easy letting go, but we will always live within the memories of these past amazing four years.
May the bells of the Basilica ever ring in your ears, may the scent of burning leaves take you back to Notre Dame in autumn, and may the cry of victory be yours in whatever you do. But most of all, may you always be open to riding the wild winds of change to the incredible adventures that are waiting for you.
This is it.
Go be spectacular.
Colleen Gaughen was the Viewpoint Editor of The Observer for the 1999-2000 school year. She will be working with the Peace Corps in western Russia in the fall.
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
All Viewpoint Stories for Friday, May 19, 2000
