The wind rustled the leaves on the tree branches that hung over my head as I walked down the circular, marble stairs. Suddenly, a sight made me take a step back – a squirrel.

Its head was bent down and its bushy, brownish gray tail shot up. Usually, each time I encountered squirrels on campus, they jumped – their back legs shooting them into the air as they buried themselves in an adjacent green shrub. I then realized why this one stopped; it had just rained, and the squirrel was sipping water from the thin, delicate stream that settled on the marble landing in front of me. 

This all happened during a walk to one of my favorite spots on campus where I was going to study  for my linear algebra and differential equations final. I don’t know why, but seeing this squirrel and watching it – as if time had stopped, even if just for a few seconds, during this hectic finals week – before it scurried off once again, put a soft smile across my face. 

A Year of Paradoxes 

After my first semester in college, I wrote this blog post where I talked about unlearning beliefs I had in high school – mainly regarding the importance of grades – and how what would define my time in college would be the extracurriculars I involved myself in along with my ability to synthesize and apply what I was learning. 

Yet now, at the end of my freshman year of college, I can’t stop thinking about time.

So much time slipped through my fingers, but it also feels like barely any time passed at all, with each moment jam packed with lectures, recitations, and meetings. 

And within that time, it feels like I involved myself in a variety of projects and endeavors to expand my knowledge and skills. Yet it also feels like I was barely scraping by with my class schedule, and that there was little time to do anything else.  

It feels like I stepped out of a freshman year completely changed from the person I was when I graduated high school, embodying new realizations and carrying bits of insight from the myriad of long conversations I had with friends, advisors, and professors this year. But it also feels like nothing changed at all, with my long-term education and career goals remaining the same. 

Whenever a chunk of time passes, the questions that tug at the corners of my mind are: “Did I waste it? Did I do enough with it?” This past year was no different. I went into college wanting to do as much as possible, thinking that my time would be defined by what I achieved (again, see my first semester blog post 🙂). 

However, if there’s one thing I learned recently, it’s this: a meaningful college experience is not determined by the big milestones or what I accomplish when a chunk of time elapses, since of course, more could always be done. Instead, it’s determined by the day-to-day moments. 

Excitement in the Mundane 

This year, I learned to ask myself better questions: Am I making learning and creativity a part of my daily life, and pursuing what I find interesting? Is there something to look forward to each day? And most importantly: am I surrounded by the right people – those who push me to aim higher, those who bring out the best version of myself, and those who I can trade stories with as we ponder life and have deep conversations? 

With a full class schedule in college, it’s easy to slip into a routine where all I’m doing is homework, digesting the concepts, or studying ahead on the material. Doing schoolwork feels productive, but oftentimes, that’s not where I’m learning something valuable. Rather, it’s through reading and writing about topics I’m genuinely passionate about, or working on an engineering or art project. This past semester, I began dedicating time each morning before lectures started – at least half an hour – to prioritize my hobbies. I also began reading more consistently (even if it was just a few pages each day), picking up the latest science news or a novel that intrigued me. 

Of course, I would still spend at least a few hours each day studying, because that time is needed – especially during exam periods. For a large part of the school year, I stuck to completing work in my dorm room, as I thought that would be most efficient. But, I eventually realized it was a lot more fun to go on a study crawl around campus. I would study one subject in one building, then go to another building – or to the cafe – to work on another subject. It was nice to take long walks outside; occasionally, I would run into a friend, and we would chat for a bit. This added some element of adventure into each day, and allowed me to strike a balance between studying and taking breaks. 

Looking Ahead 

While reading Why We Remember, written by neuroscientist Charan Ranganath, this quote, in reference to the research completed by world renowned behavioral economist Daniel Kahneman, caught my eye:

“The happiness and satisfaction we gain from the outcomes of our decisions do not come from what we experienced, but rather from what we remember.”

The emotions we feel in a given moment are fleeting – whether it’s that surge of accomplishment we feel after getting an internship we wanted, the devastation after not receiving the grade we were hoping for, or that warmth that rises within us after having lunch with a close friend. Thus, I believe the key to a worthwhile time in college is creating memorable experiences that stay in our mind long after they finish. I’m still figuring out how to do this, but little things – such as consistently carving out time each day to learn what interests me, spending more time outdoors, doing work with friends, and documenting my journey – have helped so far. 

Over the next three years, something extravagant doesn’t have to happen. I just need to be able to look back and say, “Time passed by, and I spent it well.”