“Let’s get a FastPass for Everest, run to Pandora, and then we can be to Epcot by noon.”
“If we alternate getting lunch while the others stand in line, we’ll only have a 30 minute wait each.”
These were just a couple of the “suggestions” I heard during our day at Disney’s Animal Kingdom last week. I’ve previously confessed to eavesdropping, but this time was different. These were not even conversations but rather commands called out over shoulders from 10 yards ahead as one family member looked manically at the Disney App and the others ralked behind (part run/part walk). You know, ralking—that awkward gait where you attempt to keep more than two family members together in a crowded space that won’t allow a complete run, and either hip alignment, lack of practice, or perhaps pride prohibits all out power walking.
Then of course there is the next level of determination and commitment, which I experienced first-hand. Without glancing back, a man yelled, “Can you hold it for the next 30 minutes? We gotta get to that side of the park NOW!” No response. I looked behind me and was pretty sure I saw his family a few yards back– all with large refillable Disney cups. This was not going to end well. Then, at a slightly louder volume, “Well…can you?!” He finally slowed slightly, looked back expecting to see his family and instead…me. Confused and irritated he furrowed his eyebrows and quickly shook his head as if he had smelled something noxious. I’ll admit I wanted to nod my head courageously and say, “Yeah, I think so.” Instead, I just raised my shoulders, tilted my head slightly to the right and simultaneously squinted my left eye as if to say, “Probably not.”
On some level, thinking about what’s next is all very understandable. There’s nothing wrong with trying to maximize life. Looking ahead is natural and having a plan is important. Organized, strategic, ambitious people accomplish amazing things, and if you’re reading this I’m guessing you have a lot of that in you. But there will always be a next.
At 17 it’s college; at 27 it’s a relationship or a job; at 37 next is a vacation or a house; at 47 and 57…. As you can see, somehow now becomes far more elusive.
Sometimes the plan, which is all in theory, needs to take a back seat to the tangible present—to the moment of now, where you can stop and reflect. While the next things are important, the ability to be mindful of the value of the things in the now is what builds and preserves relationships, brings smiles, makes memories, and allows you to remember exactly why (or if) the next thing is so important.
Don’t Wish Away Now for Next…
As a senior in high school, especially in the spring, it’s easy to be completely focused on “What’s Next?” You are looking ahead to AP or IB exams; trying to figure out if you can get a job and fit in some trips this summer; or thinking about graduation. And, of course, the question of “Where are you going to college next year?” has not gone away.
If you are admitted to your dream school: You are fully committed— shirt purchased, bumper sticker on, the whole nine yards. The final weeks of school are simply an albatross and a nuisance. Tests, classes, and requirements are just a long line standing in your way to the ultimate ride.
If you are maddeningly debating between your college options: You have pro-conned this thing to death. You bought an eight ball. You asked Siri. You’ve flipped coins. You’ve got Venn diagrams including geography, size, major, and ROI. What’s next? is the only question consuming your mind.
If you are on a waitlist: First, on behalf of admission directors, VPs and deans everywhere, I am sorry. Really. In a perfect world there would be no waitlists. In a perfect world we’d all walk right up to Flight of Passage with a FastPass and enjoy the ride. Waiting can be frustrating in general, and The Waitlist Sucks in particular. The “what if’s” of both the past and the future are driving you crazy. You just want answers!
I’m asking you not to wish these final weeks of high school away. Do not let them be about just surviving or making it through. Days turn to weeks turn to months turn to years, and it happens fast, my friends. “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.”
Listen. You don’t owe me anything, but regardless of your current college plans I’m still going to ask you a favor. Take some time today to pause. Take a moment longer at breakfast or lunch and breathe. Go for a walk and look around. Consider and appreciate this moment in your life. For just a bit, forget about what’s next. Think about the people who helped get you to now, or those around you who are hurting right now, or those you know who need to be celebrated or encouraged now.
Tell your friends you are really going to miss them next year no matter where you all end up. Go back and visit the coach or teacher who inspired you or encouraged you in the ninth grade and would love to hear about where you are now. Hug your mom. Then walk out and come back in and do it again.
All of these folks are going to sorely miss you. While they love hearing you talk about what’s next and they’re legitimately excited for you, it also hurts. It’s the epitome of bittersweet. Share a few precious what’s now moments with them this week.
If you would like to subscribe to receive blog entries when they post, please enter your email address above, or click the “Subscribe” button in the header at the top of this page. We also welcome comments or feedback @gtadmission on Twitter.