Last Wednesday, I found a fresh bouquet of lilies in my dorm hall’s trash can. I’m not one to dumpster dive, but the flowers caught my eye, unharmed despite their haphazard placement in the bin. Armed with a vase, an empty San Pellegrino bottle —my second, makeshift vase — and a packet of plant food, I got to work separating the dying blossoms from the newer ones. I was relieved to have a simple task to quiet the constant thoughts of class, clubs and work, even as the clock struck one in the morning.
Since the start of the spring term, I’ve been bracing myself for the inevitable: late nights with 19th-century texts, confusion over the ins and outs of constitutional law and finally figuring out my English thesis topic. These lilies, discarded by their previous owner, grounded me all week. When I struggled to piece together thoughts in my English class, the earthy notes of the lilies that welcomed me home eased my disappointment.
I may be a little late to the “school isn’t everything” realization, but something about my trash-lillies enforced that perspective more than usual. Even with the stress of my fourth consecutive term looming over me, a quick glance at my desk or the vase on my roommate’s windowsill reminded me of bright spring days, sunbathing on the Green with friends, a speaker and my favorite book.
Still, I don’t think I’ve completely adjusted to life at Dartmouth; for every term I’ve come back to campus, I’m equally fond of and anxious about my life here. It’s no secret that a 10-week term can become all-consuming. I think the insular nature of our community lends itself to reflection as often as it does to total self-absorption. What does it mean for me if my biggest concern in week two was my Baudelaire reading?
It also doesn’t help that the world is on fire. The journalist in me can’t ignore the headlines, prompting unease at best and dread at worst. Maybe I was drawn to the trash bouquet in the first place because it represents my mood as of late: grappling to find beauty in a dumpster heap of a world. I’ll probably press a flower or two, preserving the memory before returning the bouquet to the trash. With a second chance at life, the lilies gave me joy, and I’m grateful for that.
This week in Mirror, we take a closer look at the little things that bring joy to campus and our lives. One writer investigates the March Madness hype that carried students through the first weeks of term. Another reflects on her last senior spring and the joys of four years spent in Hanover. One writer relates a familiar Uber route in Los Angeles, her hometown. A final writer hears from students abroad as they find happiness in little moments and unexpected places across the globe.
Happy Week 3, Mirror! I hope everyone can find the flowers in their trash cans. If you give them a little water, they might lift your spirits just enough until the blooms are all around you.
