Fall 2018: November 2nd Issue 3

Aloha Vulcans

Your legs are cramping and starting to burn. Your eyes sting as sweat pours down your forehead. Your fists are clenched and the sun beats down on you as you gasp for air. You’re trying your hardest to give up but you can’t stop running. You can see the top of the mountain but what lies just beyond that summit is a mystery. Why are you running? What are you heading towards?

The days of this semester have moved along at a full blown sprint while the lines in the concrete add up like tally marks as they pass. Time zooms past you like a car does but slows as it moves into the distance. Strange how time seemingly speeds up again as the next car approaches. Can you see the end of the semester? What is behind those headlights and why are you standing in the road?

In the Gorillaz song November Has Come it says, “Well you know November has come when it’s gone away,” thus is college life. You get your syllabi, take your first batch of tests, get overwhelmed by midterms, finish those papers you forgot about, pull an all-nighter, and cram for finals. You run up the hill and before you can catch your breath you fall down the other side, bumping into every rock and tree on the way. As you gather yourself and brush the dirt off you find yourself at the base of another mountain. Are you standing in the valley of graduation facing the mountain called Life After, or are you in the fast-flowing channel of college life ready to be swept away again?

Wherever you are along this journey know that you can find firm footing, a branch to hold, or a place to rest here at Ke Kalahea. Take that breath, enjoy the warmth of the sun or the sound of the rain, touch the leaves and feel the grass grow. You are moving along with the wind, blowing whichever direction the gust decides to take you. There is no correct path, nor is there a right answer for your journey under the Hawaiian sun and stars.

A man of many names,
Peter Holden Chao

Explore the Issue