Senioritis

A few words about this well-known syndrome:

What you’re doing now, if you’ve done it a lot and don’t really love it, always looks drab compared to what you imagine doing in the future. Especially when we’re young, but even later, most of us want to imagine life getting better rather than worse. Results for seniors already imagining being in college? “Why bother?”; “Hanging out is more fun”; “I’ll do it later”; etc.

But spend a moment trying to imagine what your future would be like if all it consisted of was looking further toward the future. Will you spend your college days thinking about your future employment, your working years thinking about retirement, your retirement thinking about death? If we all really wanted to go to heaven that badly, such a life might make sense. But in the absence of a profound mystical calling to contemplate eternity, living in the future itself soon becomes rather drab. Spend the day thinking about tomorrow instead of today? Been there, done that.

Near-death accidents and life-threatening diseases are well known for focusing our attention on the preciousness of the present moment. But they are not the only cure for senioritis. There’s one other.

Take a moment to contemplate exactly what you think is going to make and keep you happy next year in college. I don’t mean the temporary thrills of staying up till all hours or being able to sleep till noon or reinventing yourself. (The first two will wear off when you get used to them, and the third usually fades when you discover that you take yourself with you wherever you go.) I mean the kind of thing that you imagine will really make college life meaningful, rewarding, uplifting, deepening, joyful, the kind of thing you’re not getting enough of. Then do something to make that happen now.

You’re looking forward to meeting new people and sharing deep insights with them? Well, share a serious thought with someone you already know. (Did you really think that you had already garnered every significant insight anyone you know had to share?) You’re looking forward to reading a book that captures your imagination and changes your perspective on the world? Well, read one now. (Chances are it has already been written.) You’re looking forward to being the one to write it someday? Start writing now. (You can toss it if it’s no good.) You’re looking forward to articulating at last that philosophical dilemma you’ve been rolling around in your mind but never discussed with anyone because it might make you seem un-cool or less in control? Find someone with whom to discuss it now. (What’s the worst that can happen? You can start looking cool all over again in September.) Learn a new dance or craft or sport or language or food, not necessarily to master it, just to experience what you haven’t already.

I don’t mean you always have to be busy or that there is intrinsic value in overloading your life with activities. But have you even learned just to do nothing, to do it really—with attention and honesty and joy? Will there be a better time for it than now?

In the Ethics of the Fathers Rabbi Hillel is quoted as saying: “If not now, when?” If you want to be wise, or knowledgeable, or popular, or excellent, or good, or happy, or kind, or joyful, what are you waiting for? Will it be easier tomorrow than today? Is freshman year in college any more “now” than senior year in high school?

Of course I know that reading my blog won’t in itself cure you of senioritis. Not even reading Rabbi Hillel will necessarily do that. But actually asking yourself Rabbi Hillel’s question is another matter. Honestly ask yourself “if not now, when?” and layers of drabness peel away, “been there, done that” ceases to exist, and echoes of the question’s implication deepen into revelation. Arm yourself with Hillel’s question and senioritis doesn’t stand a chance.