Christy Moody ...
We're setting sail
To the place on the map
from which no one has ever returned
It's the place where they keep
all the darkness you need
You sail away from the
light of the world
On this trip baby
"Here I go," he says to himself. And he was indeed going somewhere. After 22 years of formal education (give or take a couple) he was bound for somewhere great. At this moment he is sitting to the right of you knowing that he has less than two weeks time to make memorized sense of this semester's lectures and readings, but what he is really concentrating on is the suit he will purchase this weekend for the interview he has somewhere else shortly after graduation (It will cost $398 and is sure to make him appear alarmingly mature, which he may well be).
Meanwhile the guy to the left of you he is on the verge of breaking out in anxious tremors from the recollection that he will soon leave for his cross-country road trip or the amazing two months his Eurail pass is to provide. And at the end of the summer, the first guy will be in an office and the second will be in a train station and this university will seem like forever away, and it will be.
Hopefully it will occur to both of them that between graduation and forever lingers a finite number of moments, which can have a remarkable impact when we become aware of the goal to which their simple succession leads. It may slap us flat across the face like windblown newspapers as we sit calmly somewhere in silence. And if we stop counting them, rather than flying past us leaving only the sting of paper and ink, they might actually mean something. But the lure of a shiny reward is dramatic: it is medals and acceptance speeches, cash rewards, on office with a view and a swimming pool with a sun-shaped fountain. it is Jason and the Argonauts' Golden Fleece.
Or maybe it is none of these things. Maybe the goal is constantly reshaping and redefining itself like every atom which inhabits and composes you. Maybe indecision will replace any inkling of motivation as soon as you begin to move toward the next mile-marker that proves you've been somewhere different and are here now to talk about it. Or maybe, and this is my hope for all of us, you will simply be moved. As seductive as it may seem, none of us has to sail the Ship of Fools.
.is a weekly column where a Wildcat reporter offers up a fresh, literary take on a subject of their choice. Christy Moody writes the column every other week and this is her final. Read Next Article