The Nature of Wind

It isn't often that I read something and feel like the author is speaking personally to me. More often that not, books are an entertainment - a distraction. Complete immersion in a book is one of my favorite diversions since it's so simple for me to get lost in the lives and infinite intricacies of another person's life, but rarely do I ever feel any personal connection to the characters. Most of the time I feel like I'm treated at best as an observer (at worst an intruder) to the book.

But every once in a great while, I read something, and I can't help but feel that either I've known the author or they've known me, because they know exactly what I need to hear at that exact moment. It's an odd thing, that, and it makes you wonder if things like that are always there, but you just don't notice. Because you need someone to tell you those exact words, but when no one does, you go looking for them...and sometimes you do find them.

I didn't make valedictorian this year, nor did I make CSF. I will be one of the few IB seniors to not be a valedictorian or graduate in gold. I don't blame anyone but myself though. Every decision I've made for the past four years was mine and mine alone, and this is where they've left me. Am I angry? Yes. Will I stay angry? No, there isn't any point. So I'll have a different colored robe. So I won't sit next to my friends. There's no point in fighting something that I can't change, and I needed a piece of fiction to tell me the truth of that:

"That's the nature of wind. You can work with it or you can fight against it... but no matter how much you might not like it, you can't change it."

I have two choices: I can get angry about my own failures, or I can enjoy my last two weeks of high school. Staying angry might feel good now, but I will regret the time wasted later. I certainly won't like it, but I'll do what I can to work with it.