Scar Tissue
On Saturday night, I handed in my last final exam. Honestly, it was an extremely anticlimactic ending. The final had no bearing on my graduation or GPA for that matter, so it wasn't really the concluding push that I envisioned being the end of my undergraduate stay. After a brief test, I said to my professor, "終わりですね..." and stole away into the chilly evening.
I spent some time walking around the campus and reminiscing about fond memories from the past five years. So many little things have changed, but so much remains static. It still hasn't fully sunk in that I've graduated yet, but I know that when it hits, I'll spend a lot of time thinking back to that cold stroll.
Now more than ever I think about the Transit Center. Just four months ago I was torn between Anchorage and Austin. Once again, I'm pushing myself to the limit: returning to the city in the dead of Alaskan winter. The first three months that I spent in Alaska were filled with their own trials and tribulations, but this time, I know that nothing can prepare me for that moment when that plane lands. Now, during this awkward gray area between graduation and starting my job, I'm trying to prepare myself both physically and mentally for my return to the Last Frontier.
I still have a thick scar on my thigh from Flattop Mountain, probably my favorite souvenir from Anchorage. Climbing Flattop is considered amateur to native Alaskans, but by taking the road less traveled without adequate footwear, I managed to suffer quite a few falls. In any case, everyone needs to be taken down a notch now and then. Whenever I feel the scar tissue now, I think back to how I lived during the last week of my internship. Everyday after work was a new adventure. The day after Flattop, I crossed a glacial stream barefoot. I crammed as much adventure as I could into those short hours. For the first time, I felt truly alive. That's how I want to live the rest of my life.
I haven't opened up to many people about why I'm going back. In fact, if you talked with me early in the summer, I probably told you how awful I found it to be. Alaska certainly takes its toll on the mind, but at the same time I've never felt so connected to a place before. The natural beauty that I imbibed there evoked a sense of naturalistic wonder that transcends language or photography. After I left, I thought nonstop about going back. With the help of some close friends an opportunity 'opened up' for me, and I'm happy to be returning for five more months.
When I think about life itself now, I always think of the day that I climbed Flattop. People from all over the world visit it to see a clear view of Anchorage and the port. It just so happened that the day I went, the mountain was beset by gray clouds on all sides. Despite this accomplishment of reaching the peak, I was still greatly limited in how far ahead that I could actually see. I suppose I thought that finishing my university studies would give me a great sense of clarity in regards to where my life will take me. I still feel lost in the fog even now that I've graduated, but I've come to accept it.
Most of the incredible experiences in my life I attribute to sheer chance, whether it be a change of major or a friend that grows to be a lover. There is always risk in living by chance. Sometimes you'll stumble, but even in success, you may still find yourself surrounded by the unknown. Let your life be ruled by these once-in-a-lifetime encounters. Wounds heal, but experience lasts forever.