Captivated Me

I’m here! Miles away from home. Living in the land of perpetual sunshine. Attending USC. Registered for the course load of my dreams. And in the midst of it all, the only coherent thoughts I seem to have are: How can this be real? How can this be possible? Is it even happening?

Until two months ago, I would have never considered moving out-of-state this fall, least of all to the west coast. (I should note that I have no frank malice against the west coast except the fact that my family isn’t here, and thus I had simply planned to stay where they are, which is in the Midwest.) True, I had learned about and applied for Keck’s Global Medicine program at the end of May, but surely I had submitted my application too late and would not be accepted. Surely it was a silly pipe dream, a fantasy. Surely something would go wrong and my hopes were raised for naught. Not.

Here I am two months later, diving heart-first into a new home, a different lifestyle, and a fresh semester of school all at once. On the one hand, I’m thoroughly overwhelmed. I feel very much like the proverbial fish out of water – like all I want to do is run home to Minnesota where family and friends await, just as a fish exposed to our air desperately attempts to flop back into the sea. My nerves are frayed, I know very few people here, I miss every aspect of home, I haven’t been a full-time student in two years, I’m way outside my comfort zone, and let’s be honest, the contrast in climate between MN and CA at the moment is essentially zero. So why did I come? How can I possibly succeed? And an even more disturbing question comes to mind…Is it too late to turn back?

On the other hand, I have an inexplicable, indefinable sense of normalcy here – like there is nowhere else on earth for me to be. Something about this whole series of unfathomable events just fits. Three phenomenal friends in the area helped me get settled (each showing up with impeccable timing), I’ve moved into my new place without trouble and have the nicest roommate imaginable, I know a bit now about where things are on campus and in this sprawling city (at least geographically, not yet from experience), and after orientation I find that the GM program is, in as few words as possible, ideal beyond my wildest speculations. What’s more, going home would be far too easy. To the loud, doubting protests mentioned above, a small whisper rebuts: Maybe, just maybe, this could be something beautiful.

As I continue to process this move, I question how often we deem things as “impossible” and then refrain entirely from pursuing them. Or maybe we get our toes wet to see how the water feels, launch our boat into shallow port, then ultimately decide to jump ship before the vessel even has a chance to set sail for higher, more promising seas. How ready we are to cower at the obstacles before us instead of imagining what may be in store beyond them. (Sometimes, we even construct the obstacles ourselves just to justify bailing.) We’d rather altogether avoid the risk of failure or rejection than be inspired and propelled forward by the underlying potential in our circumstances.

In my case, I admit that the risks seem enormous in scope relative to the faint glimmers of possibility that shine through my doubt. But despite the discrepancy in perceived size between the two, I’m inclined to believe that the latter – the potential – actually weighs much more and is very much worth its weight. Let us remember that anything is possible with God on our side, that any decision or trial or situation can be understood from multiple angles, and that a simple rearrangement of the term impossible allows us to read the same word as: I’m possible. And friends, today is full of possible.

Smiles and sunshine.

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“In a world of possibilities, imagine yourself as one.”

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