I was told that my life was not over and that there are so many great things ahead for me. Obviously I could never reach my full potential by staying in college forever, and the idea was that I would outgrow Villanova.
Yesterday, I finished A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. There was a passage from the last chapter which I think speaks to what I'm trying to discuss far more eloquently and beautifully than I could express. It describes how the main character feels as she is saying goodbye to her old neighborhood before leaving for college...
"She went out and took a last long look at the shabby little library. She knew she would never see it again. Eyes changed after they looked at new things. If in the year to be, she were to come back, her new eyes might make everything seem different from the way she saw it now. The way is was now is the way she wanted to remember it.
No, she'd never come back to the old neighborhood."
No, she'd never come back to the old neighborhood."
I'm not yet sure how I feel about this, or if I agree with it.
About a month ago, I visited Villanova for the first time since leaving. Yes, I had been on campus a little bit during Augustinian Volunteer orientation and over winter break, but to me- in true Augustinian spirituality- Villanova isn't the buildings, but rather the people. I'd be committing a lie by omission if I didn't tell you that those two days while I was there were the best two days since I graduated. I got to do what I had always wanted to do... run into friends and talk for an hour... hang out with people I love all day on campus (a little piano interspersed) without having to worry about going to class or study.
Here's what's a little unsettling.
According to Betty Smith, a year later, shouldn't I have "new eyes" by now? Shouldn't I have noticed how I've matured and grown away from Villanova? One of the first things a person I consider to be one of my best mentors asked me was what I noticed since I was back on campus. I brushed off the question as if it were frivolous, but in hindsight I realize that he was probably trying to get me to acknowledge that I had changed, or that Villanova just didn't seem that great anymore. This could mean one of two things... 1) I haven't changed. 2) Villanova just is that great. I'll take the latter, given that I KNOW I've changed this year. How could I not have?
Anyway, my ethos lately (which is fitting for my nomadic lifestyle) has been that I should trust that I'm going to be happy wherever I am. Even if it's not how I thought it would work out... though these days it is kind of working out. But it's not only that I'm going to be happy wherever I am, it's that I'm going to adopt that place as my home and as the place I love and would never want to leave despite knowing I will. (Again, nomad.) I've definitely have moments where I felt that this year in San Diego, but it's not as consistent as it was for the four years I spent at Villanova.
Therein lies the problem... Amazing things have happened to me this year. I've grown so much, gotten close to new people, and have discovered things I never thought I would love so much (i.e. Hogar Infantil La Gloria, frozen yogurt, SAINTS, ChrisAliAnneKatieMikeDanMike, etc.). At this point I'm wondering why I haven't fallen so in love with my life here as I have for places before. Next year when I'm in St. Louis, will that be my new life? Or.. how long am I going keep missing Villanova? (Oh yeah! I'm going to St. Louis University next year... I lied when I said I'd be at JHU. Changed my mind. Another story for another post.)
Something important I realized while I was visiting Villanova, though, is that that school will never be the same once those people that make it what it is for me aren't there anymore. Like I said earlier, it's the people that make Villanova Villanova for me. Yes, Bryan will be there for one more year. The Augustinians I know will be there for a while, same with some of the faculty. But the overwhelming majority of people at Villanova who I am close to are seniors who are graduating. Over the years, I'll know fewer and fewer people. The already faceless altos will become more and more faceless. My visit a month ago was perfect, and I knew it was the last time I was going to be able to have that same experience of having that same Villanova community I knew in my four years there.
With a little more thought... I really do identify with this passage from A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, but just not in the most obvious way. The perfect memory I want to preserve and always think about when I remember my alma mater wasn't just the way I saw Villanova when I graduated- though at that time, I couldn't have loved it more. The way I saw Villanova last month was almost just as awesome. Yes I have different eyes, but they aren't the new eyes I'll have when I see Villanova once the people aren't the same anymore.
Before my mom came to pick me up for our trip to visit Johns Hopkins, I sat in my Pastoral Music chair and took one last long look at St. Thomas of Villanova Chapel from the perspective from which I experienced it. I might never see Villanova again. I'll have changed even more next year at a new school and when I visit Villanova again, I might remember a whole different place that wasn't the place I experienced. The way it was last month and the last four years is the way I want to remember it for the rest of my life.
But unlike Francie in The Tree Grows in Brooklyn, I will go back. Actually, even though I know this too will probably change in the future, my current career objective is to teach there one day. I think it's all about identifying the shifting relationship I have with that school and realizing that while it's a place I love a lot, there are probably going to be dozens of places in my future with the same significance.
With a prayer for Villanova and a sweet amen,
Emily
About a month ago, I visited Villanova for the first time since leaving. Yes, I had been on campus a little bit during Augustinian Volunteer orientation and over winter break, but to me- in true Augustinian spirituality- Villanova isn't the buildings, but rather the people. I'd be committing a lie by omission if I didn't tell you that those two days while I was there were the best two days since I graduated. I got to do what I had always wanted to do... run into friends and talk for an hour... hang out with people I love all day on campus (a little piano interspersed) without having to worry about going to class or study.
Here's what's a little unsettling.
According to Betty Smith, a year later, shouldn't I have "new eyes" by now? Shouldn't I have noticed how I've matured and grown away from Villanova? One of the first things a person I consider to be one of my best mentors asked me was what I noticed since I was back on campus. I brushed off the question as if it were frivolous, but in hindsight I realize that he was probably trying to get me to acknowledge that I had changed, or that Villanova just didn't seem that great anymore. This could mean one of two things... 1) I haven't changed. 2) Villanova just is that great. I'll take the latter, given that I KNOW I've changed this year. How could I not have?
Anyway, my ethos lately (which is fitting for my nomadic lifestyle) has been that I should trust that I'm going to be happy wherever I am. Even if it's not how I thought it would work out... though these days it is kind of working out. But it's not only that I'm going to be happy wherever I am, it's that I'm going to adopt that place as my home and as the place I love and would never want to leave despite knowing I will. (Again, nomad.) I've definitely have moments where I felt that this year in San Diego, but it's not as consistent as it was for the four years I spent at Villanova.
Therein lies the problem... Amazing things have happened to me this year. I've grown so much, gotten close to new people, and have discovered things I never thought I would love so much (i.e. Hogar Infantil La Gloria, frozen yogurt, SAINTS, ChrisAliAnneKatieMikeDanMike, etc.). At this point I'm wondering why I haven't fallen so in love with my life here as I have for places before. Next year when I'm in St. Louis, will that be my new life? Or.. how long am I going keep missing Villanova? (Oh yeah! I'm going to St. Louis University next year... I lied when I said I'd be at JHU. Changed my mind. Another story for another post.)
Something important I realized while I was visiting Villanova, though, is that that school will never be the same once those people that make it what it is for me aren't there anymore. Like I said earlier, it's the people that make Villanova Villanova for me. Yes, Bryan will be there for one more year. The Augustinians I know will be there for a while, same with some of the faculty. But the overwhelming majority of people at Villanova who I am close to are seniors who are graduating. Over the years, I'll know fewer and fewer people. The already faceless altos will become more and more faceless. My visit a month ago was perfect, and I knew it was the last time I was going to be able to have that same experience of having that same Villanova community I knew in my four years there.
With a little more thought... I really do identify with this passage from A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, but just not in the most obvious way. The perfect memory I want to preserve and always think about when I remember my alma mater wasn't just the way I saw Villanova when I graduated- though at that time, I couldn't have loved it more. The way I saw Villanova last month was almost just as awesome. Yes I have different eyes, but they aren't the new eyes I'll have when I see Villanova once the people aren't the same anymore.
Before my mom came to pick me up for our trip to visit Johns Hopkins, I sat in my Pastoral Music chair and took one last long look at St. Thomas of Villanova Chapel from the perspective from which I experienced it. I might never see Villanova again. I'll have changed even more next year at a new school and when I visit Villanova again, I might remember a whole different place that wasn't the place I experienced. The way it was last month and the last four years is the way I want to remember it for the rest of my life.
But unlike Francie in The Tree Grows in Brooklyn, I will go back. Actually, even though I know this too will probably change in the future, my current career objective is to teach there one day. I think it's all about identifying the shifting relationship I have with that school and realizing that while it's a place I love a lot, there are probably going to be dozens of places in my future with the same significance.
With a prayer for Villanova and a sweet amen,
Emily
