ThinkMoregooD

We often hear people talk about college graduation as a segue to “the real world” or “the next step.” Regardless of what we call it, it goes without saying that college graduation is a major transition period in one’s life. Let’s examine. For one, I’m not heading back to UCLA in the next week. I’ll be at home in Milpitas. For two, I won’t be studying on a regular basis any more. That time will be spent jobhunting and/or relaxing after a long day at work. For three, I don’t know what’s in store for me over the course of the next year. Who knows where I’ll be and when I’ll be there. But the most significant and impactful change to my reality, which was set into motion the moment I moved out of my apartment and hit the 405 North with a car jam-packed full of stuff Goofy Movie style, was the distancing of my social circle… or at least the vast majority of it. In this context, I’m not referring to relational distancing. In fact, as with most things, I’ve come to appreciate the relationships and bonds I’ve cultivated in LA to an even greater degree now that I’m slightly more removed from them. So, when I mention distance, I’m referring to physical/geographic distance.

I don’t live in a dorm or an apartment in Westwood anymore. I’m not walking distance from a campus and social hub with a total enrollment of 40,000 students. I don’t live with 3 friends my age, or in a community where 90% of the people I see are about my age. I’m 350 miles from that. I’m 350 miles from a social circle that is more rich with diversity of culture and ideologies than anything I’ve ever known. Most importantly, I’m 350 miles from a social circle comprised of people that I have grown to know and love. People who have been instrumental in my own growth and development as a human being. People who make my life more meaningful and fun just by being a part of it. People who can’t be replaced.

The question then becomes: What coping mechanisms can I employ to facilitate and ease the transition and/or distancing of that social circle? For the majority of the summer, it wasn’t all that difficult. My summer went from Cancun, to UniCamp Session 4, to UniCamp Session 8, to Rock The Bells, to Shawn and Trang’s visit, and had abundant sprinkles of family and friends to fill in all the gaps. Life has been good since graduation. But with summer winding down and people starting school or careers, I’m at a point where I can’t definitively say when the next time I will see a lot of my close friends will be. And that thought is far from comforting.

Over the past week, however, I’ve stumbled over an understanding that has instilled a degree of enduring solace. The understanding is simply that knowing when I will see people again evokes a palpable sense of relief in me. Excitement and appreciation also enter the equation, but the sense of relief is the novelty that I recently discerned for the first time.

Last week I pinpointed an event that I would be willing and able to roadtrip down to LA for. And in that moment, it was like someone flipped a psychological switch in my head. The instantaneous rearrangement of my mindset was tangible, even at the chemical level. It felt like a surge of endorphins was running rampantly through my bloodstream. It’s difficult to explain it rationally, because it’s not necessarily rational. It’s emotional and psychological; and to me, it’s fascinating. It’s fascinating that my visualizations and notions regarding one simply-conceived plan to go see some of my friends could have such a resounding influence on my state of being. It’s fascinating that my underlying trepidation about the distancing of my social circle can be mentally manipulated and/or counteracted. It’s fascinating that in those moments of realization and reflection, I found a way to narrow that 350 mile gap in my mind. In doing so, I learned how to better manage my own psychological well-being. I grew.