The reason a gap year is so appealing is because it all boils down to a single question: What do you want to do?
Just because I’ve dedicating a whole year to explore this question doesn’t mean that I have– or will ever have– an answer.
What do you want to do?
It’s like a burning red light that presses hotly against me, and against the things that make me who I am. Things like art, film, climbing, writing, and music. This year I’ve decided to wait patiently by their side. To nurture them with this bright red light of a question, and to believe in their potential to hatch into something more than just hobbies.
It’s a shame how natural it is to dismiss the things you love as ‘pass times’, or worse ‘distractions’. Being eighteen, I think a lot about which college to go to, what to major in, and eventually, what career I want to pursue. All these questions lead to a downward spiral as soon as I mentally separated the things I want to do, from the things that I’m doing right now.
For example: I committed to a certain college solely based on who I wanted to become. I pictured myself darting between classes in my forest-green rain boots and a spiffy wool coat. I was going to be tirelessly academic. I would find refuge in the library, studying under a glowing yellow light while it was grey and pouring outside.
In the vision I had of this college, I was always alone. I didn’t do this on purpose, I just was never able to conjure up an image of myself in a social environment.
The second thing that was wrong with this dream: I never had an idea what I was studying. It could’ve been a thousand sheets of blank paper for all I cared, as long as I looked studious.
I started to realize that this school was a cheap dream, and those clouds I envisioned became dark, and menacing.
It took a whole lot of talking, and a whole bunch of people telling me to “follow my intuition” in order to leave the dream behind, and begin planning my gap year.
As soon as I made that transition the question appeared: What do you want to do?
I started with a basic decisions: I want to leave home, and become independent. I want new experiences. I want to meet new people.
Which turned into this: I want to travel the world.
Which turned into this: I wanted to travel in France, Spain and Portugal and visit my friend in Ireland.
Which has now turned into this: I want to boulder in Fontainebleau, I want to pick grapes in a vineyard, I want to bike from Nice to Barcelona, I want to learn how to dance in Madrid and I want to spend Christmas with my friend in Dublin. Moreover, I’ll explore the possibilities that present themselves along the way.
Don’t let anyone tell you that knowing what you want is easy. It requires an art form that can’t be taught– the art of being introspective. When I began to understand myself, and what I wanted, I also began to understand what I feared.
Four months ago, the idea of traveling abroad was an unassailable dream. It made my heart race to imagine my own two feet standing an ocean away from home. So I looked closer at that fear, and when I did it led me to the plans that I have now. Plans that are terrifying yet exciting, but more than anything plans that feel right.
By the end of this year, I don’t wish to know my major, or have any unhealthy resolution in my life path. The point isn’t to answer the unanswerable. My goal is to find satisfaction in what I don’t know, to embrace the very few things I understand about myself, and to embrace the fears I’m soon to conquer.
