If you sit still on the ground, you can feel it – the lack of weight that’s supposed to be on it. Instead of being grounded, everyone is stuck in the air spinning in their all-encompassing circumstances, wrapped up in their distractions, and either trying to redeem themselves or clench their death grip on the glory of what is.

We’ve been immersed into this plastic belief that we’re supposed to have it all figured out. We’ve ever so cleverly memorized what to spew out of our mouths the second we’re asked what our plans are. What’s funny is that everyone fails to sneak in the little fact that “figuring it all out” isn’t a thing. You know what is a thing? Monumentally screwing up, having exceptionally unfair things happen to you, watching your perfectly planned dreams explode in your face, and coming to the sober realization that you have no idea what to do with your life. All of those are things, things that happen way too frequently, might I add – and contrary to popular belief, every single one is completely acceptable.

As bright and clean as new semesters are, there’s a weight that comes with them. The weight to be as good or better than the last, the weight to be healed from whatever scarred you, and the weight to embrace the adultness that’s quickly flying towards you. Let me free you of this weight with a fact: one semester is merely sixteen weeks, about only 112 days. You have to give yourself the grace to understand that 112 days is not a significant amount of time, and if you do one thing differently or improve a minuscule amount or discover one tiny thing that makes you happy, then that is a massive accomplishment. You may have not have done as wonderfully as you wanted to last semester, but maybe you conquered how to cook for yourself, or maybe you decided to try the whole “socializing with other human beings” thing again. As important as grades are made out to be, please understand that there is an enormous list of things that are immensely more important, like your mental health and sanity.

 Unfortunately, a new semester containing beautiful new school supplies may not ignite the genius that is hiding inside of you. It’s okay if that hasn’t happened yet, it’s okay if it never does. The notion that you’re supposed to be anything but a scattered mess right now is nonsensical. You’re only expected to do as best as you can. Your progress is incomparable and relative. You are under no obligation to be or do anything. It is a privilege to be here, so don’t make it into something that suffocates you or is forced. We are here by choice, and we are allowed to conquer this in-between time of weirdness in the way that most appropriately suites us individually.

If there’s one thing you learn from this semester, please let it be that wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, whoever you are: it is absolutely, positively, 100% enough. You aren’t supposed to have it all figured out. It’s okay if all you’ve done today is breathe. I want you to know I see you. I celebrate your victories that went unseen. I applaud your failed efforts. I share in your struggles. I appreciate the dreams that you may not be pursuing. It’s okay if it’s taken you a lot longer than you expected and it’s equally okay if you decided to do something completely different than you originally planned. The world is really good at making you feel like you’re drowning, but I want you to know that where you are now is exactly where you’re supposed to be, despite how you may feel.

 It’s a few weeks into the semester now, and you’re probably swimming in your last week’s entry of your perfectly organized planner. Before you know it, the first tests that you’re agonizing over will pass, your spring break plans will become a memory, summer will slowly creep in celebrating your survival, and then a new semester will be upon us, unless you’re one of the precious graduates who can officially claim their victory. After many failed attempts, I’ve come to the conclusion that the Earth doesn’t give a flying squat how hard you hold onto the ground and beg it to stop moving. It isn’t concerned with your pleas; it keeps going and there’s nothing we can do about it. 

Don’t let this semester swallow you whole, leaving you in pieces by the time it’s over. We only get so much time here. Maybe one day when we’re in the midst of our adult lives, scattered around the world all pursuing the dreams we’re paving way to right now, we’ll realize it was a lot better than we thought. 

I encourage you to let your spinning cease, rip through the distractions, and release your grip on everything you’re holding onto. Come back down to the ground. Take time to just be. Realize how far you’ve come from everything you’ve been through. We’re doing the best we can. And in my opinion, I think we’re doing pretty great. 

(P.S. Still not convinced? Ask Jesus. His opinion is the only one that matters, and He thinks you rock.)