By Meredith Vagner
“The only people who achieve much are those who want knowledge so badly that they seek it while the conditions are still unfavorable. Favorable conditions never come.”
It’s strange to think of myself as a PhD student when only a few years ago I had just dropped out of college. And it’s even stranger to think that a spur of the moment decision to leave academia would be the start of my journey back to it.
To say my freshman year of college was rough is an understatement. A mix of too many things to share in a blog post made adapting to daily living and completing assignments difficult. I was so exhausted following that first year that I only lasted three days of sophomore year before dropping out. So, I left college. And it was arguably one of the best things to ever happen to me.
For the first time in over a decade, I had no school obligations. The external pressure of academics evaporated overnight, and my only job in the world was to pack up my necessities and drive an hour and a half on I-35 to my childhood home. My new normal was doing whatever I wanted. For example, I slept soundly. I spent hours laughing with my friends over games of slapjack. I read the entire Twilight series in a week. I ate food that was edible. I circuit trained. I hung out with my siblings. I took pictures of my cat. My body exhaled for the first time in a while. To become the “best” student I could be, I had inadvertently become the most purposeless version of myself. It was a version of me who had forgotten that I had values and hobbies that gave my life meaning, even when the future seemed uncertain.
After stepping back from college, I realized that I had interpreted feeling directionless as feeling meaningless. I had constructed this façade in my head that I had to achieve the “perfect” conditions (i.e., certainty in a career choice, impeccable mental health) before I could pursue any sort of meaningful work in my life. What I quickly learned was that I would be waiting forever for the perfect life conditions to manifest…because they never existed.
There are no favorable conditions, to quote C.S. Lewis.
With hindsight, I recognized that I dropped out of college not because I wasn’t capable of achievement, but because I didn’t have the tools to navigate the uncertainty I was feeling about my future. The more stressed I became, the more I began to avoid the things I needed to do. I now know this is called experiential avoidance. It’s a strategy people use to avoid or control their negative thoughts, feelings, and physical sensations (Machell et al., 2015). While it provided me short-lived comfort, it became a vicious long-term procrastination cycle that fueled my future-oriented fears. I felt I would be a “directionless person” (whatever that means!) forever. Somehow feeling directionless had become a part of my ontology through all of this.
What’s funny is that that uncertainty never dissipated after I left college. In my childhood bedroom, I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring any more than I did in my college dorm room. Sure, there was a lack of external academic stress, which likely turned down the volume of my overwhelm at the time, but avoiding school didn’t solve the problem of uncertainty for me. However, by incorporating the activities, hobbies, and people I loved back into my life, I had made an uncertain future feel tolerable. I am not the first person (or student!) to stumble upon this conclusion. Other researchers have found that finding purpose in life allows for greater adaptability to uncertainty and ambiguous circumstances in college students amidst the background of global pressure (Yashchenko et al., 2023).
Positive psychology literature suggests that being resilient is not about avoiding uncertainty, but about learning how to respond to it with openness and purposeful action (Ceary et al., 2019; Jach & Smillie, 2019). The problem with avoiding discomfort is that it is inevitable. Avoiding discomfort reinforces our minds to hold on to the idea that it is something to escape. So, when discomfort occurs, we have less tolerance for it over time. Instead, if we face uncertainty with a willing and curious mind, in combination with valued and purposeful actions (e.g., reading semi-insufferable melodramatic paranormal YA romance), our ability to cope with uncertainty will likely improve over time.
Eventually, I worked up the courage to go back to college. Now I’m a 2nd year Clinical Psychology PhD student. And life still feels uncertain. I still have pillow thoughts where I wonder “What on Earth am I doing with my life?” But now, I have tools in my arsenal (e.g., social support, slapjack, mindfulness, work that makes a tangible impact in other’s lives, etc.) to ground me in the present moment when those uncertain thoughts and feelings arise. I finally feel allowed to appreciate the life I have—without perfect conditions. And, it feels great.
References
Ceary, C. D., Donahue, J. J., & Shaffer, K. (2019). The strength of pursuing your values: Valued living as a path to resilience among college students. Stress and Health, 35(4), 532–541. https://doi.org/10.1002/smi.2886
Jach, H. K., & Smillie, L. D. (2019). To fear or fly to the unknown: Tolerance for ambiguity and Big Five personality traits. Journal of Research in Personality, 79, 67–78. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jrp.2019.02.003
Machell, K. A., Goodman, F. R., & Kashdan, T. B. (2015). Experiential avoidance and well-being: A daily diary analysis. Cognition and Emotion, 29(2), 351–359. https://doi.org/10.1080/02699931.2014.911143
Yashchenko, E., Sinelnikova, E., & Shumov, M. E. (2023). Purpose in Life and Uncertainty Tolerance in Transport University Students during the COVID-19 Pandemic. BRIСS Transport. https://doi.org/10.46684/2023.1.6