My own life is a mystery to me. That this is the case after five years of university seems surprising, but it should not be. I suspect that I am not alone in this. But it is probably worth thinking about.

One of the things about a transition – whether from one school year to the next, or from school to the real world – is that it gives us time for reflection. Indeed, it almost demands it of us. Since one of the things university is supposed to teach us to do is how to really think, we can be left with some uncomfortable questions.

Where did the time go? You are born, you go to elementary school, you go to high school, you enter university. You come in a freshman, presumably not really knowing what you will do with your life, but you’re here because this is what people do and university is as good a place as any to figure out your life and, after all, there are worse things to do with your time. You go through your studies, make some friends, possibly change your major a time or two. You become a sophomore, a junior, a senior. Maybe you decide what you want to do with the rest of your life, but probably not. If you are a few years away from graduation, you will tell yourself there is plenty of time left. Then it is over, your undergrad swept by in the blink of an eye. You have to make decisions for yourself now. Apartments, jobs, marriages, mortgages. Four or five years behind you forever and the rest of your life looming in front of you.

Who am I? How did I get here? When you were a child, you probably did not imagine that this would be your life. It is a strange thing to be a university student at the end of another year, born near the end of the 20th century and living at the beginning of the 21st. What a strange sort of life, to pay to sit in classes for years on end, mostly to get a piece of paper which will in turn help you get a job, but just perhaps to learn something as well, maybe even about yourself. Was this how people were meant to live? What would this have seemed like to our ancestors?

The end of a year can feel like waking up from a dream. It breaks you out of your routine, forces you to look around, and realize that this is your life. It is true that your life flashes before your eyes before you die. That is what is happening right now.

What am I supposed to do now? Maybe you have only finished your first year; maybe you are graduating. You might die tomorrow, but then again you might live another 40, 50, 60 years. What are you going to do with that time? People will tell you that you can do anything. This is true in a sense (is that not the nature of a truism?), but the fact is that your time on the earth is short. What are you going to do? You could devote your life to making money; you could choose to live in poverty. You could raise a family; you could take a vow of chastity. You could live for yourself; you could live for God. You cannot do all these things, but you must do something.

What are you going to do?