Travel Inward (pt.1)
The Inward Journey of Augustus Anderson
The chair was so deep my legs couldn’t touch the floor. I dangled them over the edge of my seat, swinging them back and forth, waiting for my name to be called.
The teacher said I was extra antsy and thought it would help to talk to Paul, my guidance counselor. He wasn’t specifically mine, he talked to a lot of other kids, but that’s how she said it. We never actually met, I didn’t know I had a guidance counselor until right then. Paul walked another boy out of his office and told him it was alright if he was late for class.
“Augustus Anderson?” He said, raising his eyebrow. “That’s an unusual name.”
“My dad is a history professor,” I said.
“Well, Augustus, what can-”
“Gus.”
“Huh?”
“I go by Gus.”
“Um, okay,” he flipped through the folder. “Gus, you want to come in my office?”
He took a seat in front of his desk and I sat on the cracked leather sofa by the wall. A box of tissues was on the side table with a few crumbled up next to it.
“So, Mrs. Jones said you were acting anxious in class. She said that’s a little out of character for you. Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“I’m just kind of worried about things.”
“What does someone your age have to be worried about?”
“Lots of things.”
“You can tell me. Nothing you say leaves this room.”
“Well, Alex told Sarah that I liked her when I really don't but I think Alex is just acting out because he thinks his parents don’t love him because they’re getting a divorce and that made me think last night my parents were fighting and I’m worried that they’re going to divorce like Alex’s parents because I can’t focus on Mrs. Jones test because Sarah kept sneering at me because of what Alex said and if I don’t do well on the test then I can’t go to college and if I can’t do that then I don’t know what to do with my life.”
“Wow,” Paul said. “That’s a lot.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Augustus--” he stopped himself. “Gus, have you ever heard of only worrying about what’s within your control?”
“No.”
“Well, it’s the idea that we should only worry about the things we can change and not worry about the things we can’t.”
“But I can change this.”
“You can’t control what other people do or say or think. But you can control how you handle it.”
I looked down at the floor, not saying anything.
“Does that help?” Paul said.
“I guess so.”
“Okay. So can I send you back to class?”
“I guess so.”
Paul walked me out of his office and signed a hall pass and gave it to me. There was only one class left and I zoned out the rest of the time. I was thinking of what Paul said about not worrying about things out of my control. I couldn’t control what Alex said and what it caused, but I could control what happens after. I could tell Alex how I felt. If he didn’t stop, then I wouldn’t have to be friends with him. After that, it’s out of my control. Then why worry?
I walked back home thinking about what I would say to Alex. I don’t know how he will react, but it’s not up to me. Back home, Mom is in the family room reading a book. “How was School, honey?” she said. “Good,” I said. She was standing, sensing the anxiety in my voice as all moms can.
“What’s wrong?” She asked.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t give me that,” she said widening her eyes. “Tell me.”
I told her what I told Paul about Alexa and Sarah and her and dad and that Mrs. Jones wanted me to retake the test later to make up not focusing on it.
“Oh, Gus,” she said. “You worry me with your worry.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m sorry that you’re worried about me and your Dad. You shouldn’t be.”
“Okay.”
She came and hugged me. “You really shouldn’t feel alone in your worry. It’s important to talk to others. Whether me or your friends, as long as it’s somebody. We can survive alone--but we can’t live alone. Does that make sense?”
I nodded and she ran her fingers through my hair then told me to catch up on my reading before dinner. I opened my book and placed it on my desk, but I couldn’t read it. There was too much on my mind. It felt like the anxiety of the day threatened to swallow me whole. The test, Alex, Mom--the future. It all seemed so heavy. Mrs. Jones told me it was silly to worry about college when you’re ten years old and nobody knows what they want when they’re young. But what if she was wrong and I never learned?
I wanted to be an artist, but I don’t know if I can. I haven’t been able to draw in weeks. Even though Mom I wasn’t alone, there wasn’t anyone who could help me with this. That feeling was my responsibility and no one else's. No one could pick up the pencil for me except me. But it was hard to find the motivation for it.
I looked at my notebook on the desk. It was open to a blank page. It was like it was taunting me for not drawing. I was tempted to turn on the TV and bust out some chips, but I knew I would never get anything done for the night if I did. I walked over to the desk and sat down and sketched for a few minutes. I still needed to study for the test so I put my notebook away. It was only for a few minutes, but I decided that it’s better than not drawing at all. I made a mental note that I draw every day, even if it’s only for a minute. No more zero drawing days. Only I can help myself here.
As I brought out my textbook and opened it on my desk, I couldn't help but reflect on the day and what I learned. First with Paul and not worrying about things I can’t control, which made me think of the things I can control and that only I can help myself in certain cases like drawing and studying. Then Mom telling me the importance of having friends and family to turn to. And with the drawing and studying, to just sit down and do it and not to give into vices when work needs to be done. Speaking of which, I really needed to study. I cracked open the textbook and began to read.
____
MOST POPULAR
Podcast
Listen to entrepreneurs who took the risk to live their dream and pursue their passions.
Meaningful Bias
Read stimulating stories and articles that provide a meaningful life experience.
Wisdom
Helpful tips, hacks and inspiration on how to live your best life.
Sponsor
Like what see and read? There are many ways you can help us grow.