The temptation to coast and an urge to contend
“WALK WITH PURPOSE!”
This was the resounding exhortation of the Palmetto Girls State counselors as hundreds of rising high school seniors, dressed in blue and yellow T-shirts paired with Lilly Pulitzer or J.Crew skirts (of a conservative length, of course) paraded around Presbyterian College’s campus, nestled in Clinton, South Carolina.
Though many of the singsong lyrics and party-affiliated chants we bellowed have since slipped my mind, these three words have followed me—haunted me, rather—and have come to mean much more than “pick up your step so you’ll be on time for your next event.” Today, what they connote to me, and what I’d like to believe the PGS counselors were trying to intimate, is the importance of carrying yourself with a posture of purpose, of intentionality—because having a pace to your stride is about more than being timely.
I don’t know the psychology behind the relationship between your swagger and your self-identity—supposing there is one—but I can’t help but be convinced that the way you walk is an outward manifestation of the way you live.
Do you shuffle? Do you sway? Do you mope or demand others make way? Do you glide or do you gallop? Are you rhythmic or relaxed?
Whether or not these literal conclusions about your gait mean anything is less important than the way you live—and if you’re just shuffling along, it may be time to pick up the pace.
A friend and I recently had a conversation about apathy, a quality which, in his opinion, is deplorable. He made a convincing argument, and after considering the ramifications of apathy, I decided that apathetic people are most likely either the feet-draggers or the gliders; the former adopt an Eeyore complex and the latter are too carefree to ever champion a cause, and consequently never walk with purpose.
From what I’ve seen, many Wofford students find themselves on the opposite end of the spectrum of apathy—we care too much and struggle with an endless quest for involvement, when often it would serve us well to release some of our cares to the natural ebb and flow of our college years. However, at this point in the semester, for those of us who haven’t decided that the future of the world depends upon our final semester grades, we’ve thrown up our hands in surrender: I don’t care. I. Give. Up.
As tempting as this option may be, let me be the one to tell you: you’re doing yourself a disservice. Maybe you don’t care about Wofford and how you contribute to the progress of our college, but you simply cannot allow yourself not to care about you.
We can’t throw in the towel, not even in this last week and a half of the semester. Passivity does not promote progress. Apathy does not allow advancement.
Pick up your feet, pick up your head. Let your classmates hear you coming from down the hall. (If you have class with me, you’re rolling your eyes because this is exactly what happens when I wear a certain pair of boots with the most obnoxious clicking heel.) Alas, better to make yourself known that go unnoticed. Better to walk with purpose.
