an open space

Last weekend I drove to Tri-Cities with my friend Cassie to pick up some things at Costco for a VCC event. We made small talk about people, relationships, ambitions. And she told me about her recent switch from studying design to OT. I thought it was ironic, because I did the exact opposite thing my second year of college. Yet she went on to tell a story about applying for an internship with Tom’s Shoes. “Every project I did, every hour of work I put in, was all with intentions to getting closer to this internship,” she explained. The reps flew out to WWU, and she co-planned an event with ASWWU. They saw her work and told her that the internship was hers if she wanted it. Later she talked to her father, where she said, he replied: “Cassie, our love actually is quite conditional.” She’s not one to embellish stories, and so I listened, earnest and sad. He threatened to stop paying tuition, insurance, even saying, “if you take this, you’re on your own, give back all the clothes we ever bought you.” And so, she turned it down.

Maybe I don’t know her quite well enough to know when she’s faking it. Or maybe time jades her more quickly than others. But she shrugged nonchalantly and hummed along to the radio, saying “Maybe I’ll really like OT. I’d like to fast-forward two years into the future and see where I’m at.” And I thought about myself making such decisions, back when I was around the same age, and how for me, two years, hasn’t provided much more clarity at all.

Earlier this week I was feeling discouraged, because I applied to an art institute in NY, and found out that the design program isn’t taking spring applicants like I’d thought, and would instead just hold my application until next fall. I was frustrated with an unhelpful officer for a design project I was doing for math club, and instead skipped the drama and took the initiative of doing a bit of extra work myself, talking directly to the printer’s at enrollment. This resulted in me getting a job with marketing for next quarter with Chris Drake, which might just shape up to being a pretty sweet job opp. It’s funny how slowly, I realize, that even when things aren’t exactly how I planned them, they still seem to turn out okay. Maybe all the hurt and confusion in my heart will unravel to blessings. Or maybe they won't at all. Only time will tell. For now, I need to just keep praying, and breathing. Lord, please give me patience.