Monday, May 10, 2010

nothing ventured, nothing won

"And then supposing the Spirit has conquered and you have done this impossible thing, do you find afterwards that you possess yourself in a sense that you never had before? That there is more of you?…So it is throughout life…you know ‘nothing ventured nothing won’ is true in every hour, it is the fibre of every experience that signs itself into the memory.” 
- J.N. Figgis




       The first time I encountered this quote was as a fresh-faced fourteen year old, about to embark on my first trip alone: sailing on the Chesapeake Bay as part of an Outward Bound excursion. An introverted bookworm, just the act of leaving home was nothing less than a major voyage for me.  I remember feeling as though the anxiety radiating from my chest must have been palpable to the other tweens paddling away on our thirty-foot boat. But that trip-- rowing through the rain, the sweet freedom of finally sailing, the glow of hundreds of jellyfish hovering just below the waves--the first time I fell in love with a curly-haired boy with an impish grin (if one could call a week of nervous smiles love, of course)--opened up something new in me. I was still afraid--that hadn't changed. But suddenly, I felt less afraid to feel that way.


      I re-read this quotation again before another trip into the wilderness- a freshmen orientation excursion the week before I started at Northwestern. Again, nervous as hell, and without a clue about the whirlwind that was about to engulf my life. While my four years there can't be summarized so succinctly, again Figgis was right: there was somehow more of me than there had been before. And always, the fear. Fear that accompanied me long after that first week--fear that became my near constant companion for the better part of two years, in fact.  But, more intimately acquainted with it, the emotion became more of a compass, telling me I was doing something right--taking chances, making moves--rather than the warning sign I once thought it to be.



     In the years since, Figgis' quote has adorned my walls and journals in some form. This year, my first in grad school, he spoke to me from directly from a Post-it above my desk, where I'd read him during lonely four a.m nights or restless days studying. It's never easy to start a new life--or a new journey--and then, even as now, it's not easy to distill my experiences into life lessons as comforting or as true as his words. 


      But now, I turn to him again, a day before I leave for what may be my biggest--or at least, longest--journey yet: to China, for the summer. My first time abroad. My first real research project. My first time being illiterate! (Hello, Chinese characters). So, "A New and Splendid Life," it truly is--and this time, an entirely foreign one. I can't wait.

1 comment:

Lee Ryan said...

Holy Crap!! China!! That's awesome!

Thanks for posting again; I hope you had a good year of school. Have a great time in China. Sounds like you'll be having a new experience every minute.