Don't Fear...

Before I begin, I have two brief notes:

1. I said I would do another post about Clemson after I got home. All you need to know is that it still impresses me, and it's safe to say it has the lead in the race. I won't eliminate USC, and I plan on backtracking a bit to look more into... the smaller Carolina. I might talk more about it in the future.
2. AP Exams are on everyone's mind tomorrow, and I'm starting first thing tomorrow with the AP Chemistry exam. I hate to cover a topic that everyone else is talking about, since I like going against the grain a bit, but I'll just leave with a brief pep talk for everyone else taking AP Chem tomorrow. Read on to see what it is.

So, anyway, I want to use this time to meditate a bit before I go to bed and get a lovely rest before the exam.

For starters, Lent has passed and I have since returned to Twitter, which is basically just as dumb as I remember it being. But I've gotten smarter, and I don't see it as much of a vice anymore. Now, it's really just another dumb teenage distraction that I have, just like all those of my peers. So, that's really not the focus of this discussion.

The issue at hand is something I have mentioned briefly before (maybe not explicitly in this blog, actually. I can't seem to remember). I want to talk about a fear that I have and a fear that I believe most adolescents have. Some days, I brush it off like it's nothing, acting the wise one. Other days, I'm dumb enough to let it consume me, but I'm just an everyday teenager, so there's nothing wrong with that, per se...

I fear incompletion.

A premature end to a task I hadn't felt ready to complete. Something I'd walk away from with regret. Time wasted, life wasted, pride wasted. (For those of you studying for the AP Language exam, that last sentence used epistrophe. Good luck).

There is the obvious interpretation of this statement: When I start something, like procrastinated homework, an ice cream cone, or a freaking blog post that I lost the train of thought on (CRAP ON A CRACKER DON'T REMIND ME), I prefer to complete it if I'm forced to walk away. But two semesters of monotonous English taught you guys that literal interpretations are always irrelevant, right? (You're getting tested on that soon, by the way).

I also fear not doing enough at home or at good ol' Dutch Fork High before going away to college. I fear that I haven't made the difference I want to make in my community or in my diocese.

I fear that as people spontaneously fade out of my life (AP Chem review tip: this means that they are increasing in entropy while releasing heat), that I will not do enough to impact them or appreciate their brief time with me. I also fear that when it's gone, baby, it's gone, and there will be no second chances once the people I know go their own ways.

This is something that really struck me close earlier this weekend. I was forced to drop a staff position on another youth retreat due to obligations with Aida. I thought nothing of it at first, especially since Aida has produced some timeless experiences and awesome people itself. But when it occurred to me that it would be my last ever retreat with a lot of the people about to graduate, I broke down. Wasted time, wasted memories. I was almost to the point where I needed a sudden day trip to God's Country (or, as the mapmakers would call it, Western North Carolina) to ease my mind.

Sometimes I think that I've set certain expectations for how I fit into the lives of these people, and all others for that matter, and I feel like I haven't done enough. I ask myself "If they're having such a damn great time without me, and if they can live without seeing me or talking to me, then can I really say I've made a difference?" (By now, I'm now specifically referring to just about every person I know, and not just the EDUSC guys, so I have no specific vendetta).

So, I do a lot of thinking, and whenever this concern comes up, it's immediately followed by the voice of reason chiming in and saying:

"Austin, you whiny shithead. Fix this your own damn self, I'm tired of you right now."

(By this point, I tell the voice of reason that I'm working on it, and that he should just piss off).

For a person who still finds himself often secluded and sometimes faces struggle even approaching the closest of friends, it's not always easy to take initiative. But I believe that before you try and screw things up over something you blame others for, you should try and fix whatever things you yourself are doing wrong. Even if you're actually doing everything right and in the best way you can, try and change yourself.

It's hard for me trying to manage connections with a lot of people, especially when I'm so fickle about who really will matter to me when all is said and done. But I want to be able to keep people close and try and make an impact, even if it means I'm wrong.

In life, I want to follow the patron saints of my church, St. Simon and St. Garfunkel Jude. Simon is the zealot, which means he really gets into shit. Jude, who many hospitals have named themselves after, is (this actually kind of depressing when you consider said hospitals) the patron saint of lost causes. In other words, even if it ain't a worthwhile cause, freakin' go for it. Repercussions are irrelevant.

So what if everyone I know forgets about me? I still am going to try to make a difference in others' lives and push myself harder to do so, even if I (*GASP* God forbid!) don't get to be in a bunch of group chats or Instagram shoutouts. GROUP CHATS AND INSTAGRAM SHOUTOUTS: OBVIOUSLY THE PINNACLE OF TEENAGE FRIENDSHIP. PLEASE TELL ME MORE.

(Sorry, I got a little carried away there).

I can't make a blanket statement for everyone I know here, but if you're reading this, know that you kick ass. And AP Chem kids, here's that pep talk.

"Don't fear the liter."

And don't fear a lack of impact either. Kick some ass on those tests, everyone.

Mornin' Hays, signing ever-so-gracefully off.