Last night, feeling rather morose and mopey and altogether out of sorts, I wrote about missing places I’ve grown so fond of. Afterwards, I was surprised and cheered to find that, as it turns out, I am not the only one.
Over and over, I saw people I love and respect from my alma mater saying the same things, more or less, in their own ways. I am homesick. Something is not right. Where is home?
I didn’t expect leaving undergrad to be scary. I don’t think any of us did. But, whether we’ve gone straight to grad school, found a serious professional job, or moved to the city of our dreams (or any/all of the above), it seems like we’re all finding out that we haven’t fully adjusted to this transition. We aren’t fully there yet.
It’s September, and school is started, and our ever-so-tech-savvy former university keeps posting about the new students, the manicured quads, the social and sporting events. And we are not there. The place didn’t close when we left it, though this summer it felt easy to believe that world froze when we walked across a stage.
But now we’re in new places. New universities and jobs, and definitely new cities. And, even though we may be spread out, we’re not alone. We’re all going through these changes collectively, together.
This weekend I had dinner with two girls who graduated with me, and for a few Friday hours we reminisced and talked of change. And it was nice, and good, to talk about the same people, the same experiences. To be with people who know where I have been these past four years. For a while last night, I lost sight of that. Elon may have moved on, and may continue to move on, but all of us are still here, still spinning tops out in the world, all set in motion at the same time.