Make nothings mean something

You’re a college student. If you’re going to retain your sanity amidst the overhaul of midterm papers and lab reports, you have to learn to make nothing mean something.

The snooze button isn’t just an excuse to sleep for five more minutes; it’s an emergency escape to some sort of infinite peace. Twitter isn’t just a shallow social networking site; it’s an enchanted megaphone that allows us to scream in public without terrifying everyone around. The bars aren’t just an excuse to wallow around in dimly lit scenes of camaraderie; they’re all-expenses-paid luxury cruises.

These otherwise meaningless retreats become important because they can momentarily relieve us from the brunt of school-related stress.

Here are some of my go-to nothings, and why they mean something:

Concert-going: Standing around in a crowded room with a bunch of strangers (preferably motionless and sipping on PBR) really puts things in perspective. You and your fellow concert-goers agree that a dark room filled with strange lights and stranger noises is the only place worth being.

What is actually a few dozen humans pretending to hate themselves and music feels like a religious gathering — a chance to experience a rare community that you can’t find while sitting in the stacks writing a paper.

Bike riding: Once you’ve ridden down Third Street in the rain with two lanes of traffic honking behind you, you might understand the rush of pedaling without a cause. An otherwise dreary day can turn adventurous if you’re willing to ride and sweat through the rubbly back alleys of Bloomington. This meaningless exercise becomes a transcendental ritual that allows you to suspend disbelief of your own procrastination.

Field tripping, specifically to Nashville, Ind.: This adorable town’s hallowed streets are always unhurried and friendly. Treat yourself to some novelty socks and homemade ice cream. Vacationing, which can otherwise feel forced or busy, becomes an easygoing, expectation-free walkabout.

Nashville has little to offer outside of its quaintness, so you won’t have to burden yourself with sight-seeing. At a time when you could be getting ahead on your reading (and therefore maintaining your high stress levels), why not stroll through a living, breathing Norman Rockwell painting?

Take time for yourself to enjoy the little nothings. I don’t think I’m teaching you anything new. I’m just reminding you to take care of yourself.

Set aside time to engage with your own feelings, especially on the days you think you’re too busy. What you think might be a waste of time could end up saving you from your own worrying.

I know this is reading like an overwrought and sentimental “very special” column, but when all we have are these fleeting nothings, the only way to survive is to understand how important we are to each other in making these nothings mean something.

—ptbeane@indiana.edu