Stagnant, Once Fluid
When I was younger, my mother would refer to me as her little fish because of my fondness for water. I thoroughly enjoyed taking showers and baths, swimming in the northern California heat, and running in sprinklers as my mother tended to her rose bushes. Wherever the water flowed, Ashley followed—a sentiment I carried with me until the moment I stepped foot inside my high school.
Growing up, I observed and followed the steps of my two elder sisters: prioritize and continue your education beyond high school. Questions related to my career were to be answered once I was enrolled in an institution. For four years, each day was focused on gaining entry to prestigious universities rather than narrowing down my passions to increase the probability of capitalizing on one of them. But, I willfully chose to ignore the latter because I enjoy fluidity—constant motion brings me endless enjoyment. There is no risk of boredom when I am in control of my fate. The thought of committing my lifespan to a single career field is enough to scare me out of the deep end.
Yet, as I approach my final year of college, I find myself less and less attracted to streams of water. For instance, my roommates planned a two-week camping trip filled with a variety of recreational activities such as ziplining, hiking, mountaineering, and white water rafting. I denied their invitation due to internship commitments, but I did mourn my absence in the merrymaking. Here I was offered an opportunity to abandon all responsibilities for 21 days and rejuvenate myself in the abundance of the natural world. But, I stayed at home with the cats, dogs, and fish. But, I said no. Why? White water rafting is a frightful activity that I do not feel I am ready for.
When you are a child, there are very few risks associated with your decisions. Free to roam like flowing water, I was fearless and brave while kind and tranquil. I never broke a bone, got lost in a public space or cried at scary movies. But I did attend a concert by myself at the age of 12, ride rollercoasters with my eyes fully open, and most importantly, jump into the deep end without knowing what was beneath my feet. My lack of apprehension allowed me to experience my youthful exuberance to the fullest. As a 21-year-old, I find myself making excuses for every potential decision I can make. Pessimistic thoughts cloud my consciousness. Fear replaced the once existing stream of curiosity, and I desire it to return.
With only one year left of my undergraduate journey, I admit that I am afraid of what is to come. I am an aspiring music industry professional and uncertainty plagues my every thought. It is what hides under my bed during the witching hour, and I pretend it does not exist so I can sleep blissfully and dream optimistically. If only I could run to my mother and ask if it resides under my pillow, but I know she would only reaffirm my doubts. And I do not blame her at all—how can I? First-generation college students are conditioned to view a career in the arts as fruitless, even if I work in a finance sector of the industry. After years of watching my parents lose sleep as they work in laborious low-paying jobs, how can I be selfish enough to pursue a career in something as uncertain as the music industry?
And I don’t know. Maybe it is the uncertainty of it that thrills me. I pride myself in my motivation to chase opportunities. Maybe the uncertainty of success in a fragile industry drives me to persevere. And maybe I never abandoned my admiration for water, I just made an addition: still water.