It’s Not The Destination, But The Journey

Today I want to tell you a story. I don’t believe I am alone in the feeling that things have been kinda tough (#shitshow) and looking ahead doesn’t show much sign of relief on the horizon. When I start feeling down and wish I could hit a fast-forward button to skip this part of the chapter, it occurs to me that this is my life.

For better or worse, this is one of the days that I have been given and rather than wishing it was over, how about I take my energy and make the choice to do something different with it.

Sure there’s things that I can’t control (#majorunderstatement) BUT I can always control how I show up and what I do with my energy. And today, I’m using that energy to tell you a story.

I was a freshman in college at Northern Illinois University. Shout out to my huskies! I’m not sure why I did that because I didn’t have a lot of school spirit and I certainly didn’t have much interest in our mascot. Not that I had anything against Victor E. Huskie, but we just weren’t into the same things. Let’s move on.

As an art major, I was required to bring many accessories with me to class on most days. Foundational classes required large and various pads of paper and plenty of charcoals, pencils, blenders, etc. As you got further into the program the supplies needed were not as cumbersome, but you could spot a freshman a mile away with a tacklebox of tools and a portfolio the size of a small billboard on a strap slung over their shoulder.

Northern is not a huge campus, by some standards, but that first year my dorm and the art building were on the absolute opposite ends of campus. On a breezy day the DeKalb cornfields do very little to block that strong Midwestern wind, and it can make the long walk with a gargantuan portfolio a bit challenging. #takeflight

Halfway between the art building and my dorm was the Student Center where there was an extensive bus system. Whether you were looking to get to the dorms, Greek row, various academic buildings, or even a few places in town or the surrounding area; there was a bus that could either get you there or pretty darn close.

Since I was a Freshman, I was still learning the proverbial ropes but I knew there was a bus that would get me back to my dorm. I also knew that NO ONE liked seeing a Freshman art student getting on a bus.

I may as well have been boarding with an open container of Limburger cheese and cage full of chatty Cockatoos. 

Sure some made an effort to mask their annoyance, but there were definitely plenty of students who felt no need to reign in those eyerolls and grumbles.

On this particular afternoon, I could see that no one was on the bus which meant I could get on first and have the coveted back bench seat that was at the end of the aisle. This meant I didn’t have to contend with cramming my portfolio into an aisle seat with me, plus I didn’t have to deal with anyone else as I got on the bus. Sure, I would knock into basically everyone as I exited the bus like some weird carnival game, but at least I avoided it on entry.

I scurried onboard, claimed my spot with my tacklebox sitting beside me. Since the seat is at the end of the aisle, rather than deal with navigating the portfolio into the row I’m able to set it on my lap. I’m sure it looked odd seeing a pair legs under a large portfolio and two hands at the top, but such is the life of an art major.

Waiting for the bus to get moving, I was feeling quite pleased with myself. As the bus started to fill up I saw a few fellow art students through the window schlepping their supplies past the Student Center as they trekked back to the dorm.

I kinda felt bad for them, watching from the comfort of my back bench seat. Any moment the bus would pull out, turn left, and minutes later arrive at Stevenson Towers North well before my peers who inexplicably passed up the chance to ride the Huskie express. #likeaboss

Finally the bus driver closed the door, pulled out of the circle drive and turned right. #ohno

It occurs to me that when I was entering the bus my portfolio blocked the sign that identified the route, which it turned out was NOT going to the dorm, but instead heading to town.

I imagine as each stop was made the bus driver was wondering when 2 Hands, the disembodied portfolio would be disembarking, which I DID consider at a few stops. However, if the walk from the art building to the dorms didn’t appeal to me that afternoon, dropping myself even further from campus to hoof it all the way back didn’t seem like the best use of my time or energy.

The last stop was made and it was just me, the bus driver and my comically large portfolio heading back to the Student Center. Once we arrived, I gathered my belongings, and walked the length of the bus to exit at the front.

I could tell the bus driver was curious to see the face of the student who appeared to have taken her portfolio for a ride around DeKalb. So rather than disappoint, I held my head high and as I walked past I said “Thank you, we had a great time!”

So friends, I hope you enjoyed my story and that it brought a little giggle to your day. Remember, no matter how hard things get in life you always have a choice with how you show up and what you give your energy to. And some days, it’s better to focus on the journey instead of the destination.