The cover story in our latest issue set intern Amy Mrotek ’17 thinking …
I watched through the windows of Ed’s café as three male students – most likely on their way back to campus from the dreaded Lot 12 parking lot, considered by many students to be far out in the boonies of campus – exuberantly leaped through a sprinkler, no doubt on to keep the library lawn green and glowing amidst the summer season. It was the peak of a hot day. I chewed my turkey sandwich – the day’s gourmet lunch – and smiled inwardly. The sight of them partaking in a staple of childhood entertainment was infectious.
The scene got me thinking. The typical day rarely affords such comic relief. In fact, the typical day rarely affords much relief at all. I know I’m not alone when admitting balancing my daily activities more often feels like a hurricane-strength tug-of-war match than that breezy word ‘life.’ Responsibilities blur the already muddled lines of the hours, as if being a college student who is supposed to be charting the course of her life isn’t daunting enough. I constantly plot mental to-do lists, missing the muse of the moment in a perpetual effort to prioritize.
In an age of status updates and serial coffee runs, selfies, smartphones and so much swirling activity, the problem is clear. We all just need to slow it down. It’s exactly why I found our most recent magazine issue such a jet-blast of fresh air. The center-spread, “Being Norbertine,” not only overflowed with reflective content, but its pages fueled an even higher message: It’s okay to stop and smell the roses. It’s okay to appreciate the speckle of your momentary surroundings, to contemplate the past not as a period ending the sentence, but an ellipsis alluding to more. “Being” is such a fantastic word to included in that title – a subtle syntax reminding us of the circular connection existing with time.
The word tradition – especially among people my age – seems to hold a bit of a stigma to it, something used by old geezers to stifle modernity or progression. Perhaps tradition isn’t such a bad thing, though. Perhaps tradition, rather than stunt the moment, regenerates the paints of past with the dyes of the present. Perhaps, when used thoughtfully, tradition can serve as an impetus into the world of what’s to come. Perhaps tradition is just another word for future.
Funny how all this came about from watching some guys play in a sprinkler. It reminded me of the past, which put me in the moment, which in turn got me reflecting on the future. It’s a breath-catching experience. The next time you’re munching on a meal, maybe wash it down with a little quiet reflection, too.
