The Beauty of Belonging
- Bailey Edrington
- Jan 17, 2017
- 3 min read
A little backstory: as a Sophomore PR major in Gaylord College, I can excitedly report that I've nearly completed my GenEds, with only my foreign language requirement remaining. Though I have no French background and can't even pretend to know a single French word beyond "Bonjour", I have embarked up a three semester journey to acquire this language for my growing professional tool belt.
Bright and early Tuesday morning, this college kid trekked through the brisk Oklahoma morning air to her first French class ever.
To my slight dismay, I was greeted with a syllabus full of daily deadlines, a teacher who promised to speak nothing but French after this class period (aka the next day), a $300 textbook requirement and a deep fear of what was to come.
Needless to say, I left my 50 minute French lecture in a cold sweat. I walked anxiously to my next class; I booked it across campus, my brisk walking pace (which, to any passers-by, may have seemed more akin to a gawky jog) matched the racing panic of my internal foreign language meltdown.
That is, until I walked into Gaylord Hall.
I hate to be the cliché media student who is obsessed with her college, but I can't deny the truth: there is something calming and reassuring about walking into a place where you know you belong. How great is it to be able to shed your anxiety at the door of a college teeming with purpose and direction and inspiration? I couldn't help but smile as I walked through the doors of my college this morning and I thought: These are my people. This is my place. This is where I am supposed to be.
While the journey to finding my major proved to be a perilous one (given, I started as a theatre major, dabbled in education for the blink of an eye, and spent a hefty amount of time working with a career counselor), it's pretty fair to say I had a messy start to my college career. It was hard for me to grasp a sense of direction for what I wanted my life to look like.
However, when I wandered into my first PR class, I was immediately covered in what I can only describe as divine reassurance. I knew this is what I was meant to do. This is the major for me.
(Image Source: Pinterest)
In my PR Publications class, ironically, this graphic came into discussion. Though it is often used to describe the design process, in an odd way it resonated with me on a bit of a broader scale.
I have found, in my limited life experience, that mess and confusion are integral components of the process of "beginning", of starting something new-- be it pursuing a degree or learning a new skill (like design) or what have you. And though the mess is inevitable and might be overwhelming and confusing at times, there will eventually be a moment of clarity. There will be a moment of belonging.
There will be a time when the jumbled scribbles of worry straighten out into peace and assurance, a time when you walk through the halls of one of your favorite places and feel peace, a time when you make it through the creative process to a beautiful final product. Mess inevitably delivers clarity.
All of this to say, it is reassuring to know new beginnings are worth the mess. This week taught me, in a number of ways, to trust the mess.
We will end up where we need to be.
We will learn amazing new skills and information.
We will grow and thrive and eventually make it through the mess.
And best of all: The mess means you're onto something. There is no beauty, without a little bit of pain (can I get an "Amen", ladies?)
"Happiness is sometimes hidden in the unknown." — Victor Hugo
Moving forward with acquiring an array of new skill-sets this semester (i.e. French and design) I hope to learn to continue to trust my mess, to trust the process and to enjoy the journey. Maybe, just maybe, I can grow to embrace belonging to "mess" for a just a little while, as it is could be the most beautiful part of the adventure.
Sources:
Books image: Bailey Edrington
Victor Hugo Quote: Pinterest
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