Magic ring. Six stitches.
A typical summer day at Princeton is quite the opposite of a regular day during the academic year. It is six in the morning, but my alarm is off. There are no last-minute assignments, cram studies, or hurried trips to lectures. Instead, I am catching up on sleep.
The sun creeps higher into the sky as the day goes on, with no classes awaiting me. Instead of running from one place to another, I stroll past a grass-filled Poe Field uphill to Woolworth. My research takes place at the Music Cognition Lab, which has a bird’s eye view of the next-door Prospect Garden, full of greenery and in full bloom. I’ve counted three red cardinals, a brilliant flash of indigo (possibly a blue jay?), and many, many squirrels.
Lunchtime! The New College West/Yeh dining hall has the same salad bars, pasta, fries, rice, plantains, and an occasional blondie, but there is finally breathing room. I catch up with my friends over leisurely meals in the dining hall, not confined by packed calendar schedules. Old friendships strengthened, and new ones began in the early days of June.
Single stitch. Repeat.
As the month progresses, each day falls into a new, laid-back routine: long walks along the towpath, to the public library, back and forth from the gym. It feels like retired life, I jest, but a sense of peace wafts in the humid afternoon air. Spying a bundle of yarn in the corner of my room, I pick up a hook. It’s been a while since I had time to crochet. The walks and hobbies are little things, but enough to make me realize that I’ve missed them.
Chain stitches.
Sometimes, chitchat falls away to tumult with flashbacks of the hamster wheel: next steps, research projects, internships. In the mundane midsummer, my mind is still reeling with this phantom wheel, almost like muscle memory. They surface when I see high schoolers around campus or my peers traveling around the world, epitomes of renewal and grand destinations. My scurrying thoughts are grim company for my physicality, stuck in the same place that most people left behind. This geographical stagnation cast shadows of doubt over my personal growth. I don’t even know what I want to major in, let alone what to do for the rest of my life. “Am I supposed to?” I ask the mirror for the fifth time, with no answer. Frustrated, I try to focus on running my R research code. “Error. Please troubleshoot.”
Increasing stitches.
I’ve never formally coded before, so weekdays have been filled with online tutorials, practice, trial and error, questions, and gradual progress. Data wrangling, analysis, and visualizations come to life, with more than 100 graph combinations of pink, yellow, and blue — like how I am learning new types of crochet techniques, from bobble stitches to half-double crochet stitches. As I refine, repeat, and keep on stitching, I get more familiar with the analysis methods and replicate them to other research datasets in my project.
Weekends became an itinerary of various spontaneous trips: New York City, Philadelphia, the Jersey Shore, and even Washington, D.C., exploring museums, thrift stores, and good food, of course. My friends and I take pride in having no plan but solely to get lost in these new places, which adds the “extra” to the “ordinary.” Somehow, our travels always end up at a Hong Kong bakery, on an absentminded hunt for pineapple buns and egg tarts. Growing up, I used to get bored of the same meals, streets, and schedules — only after I left did I begin to miss them dearly.
Decreasing stitches.
It’s time to go. My Princeton summer ends today. I am excited and relieved at the same time, having stayed on campus since Reunions. The last two months have not been anything extraordinary nor life-changing, but instead enlightening. A crochet Kirby now sits in the lab. I got through a three-day Python beginner workshop, and I am sluggishly continuing online courses. Adobe Rush became my best partner for creating a summer research video. Still, my future is shrouded in even more confusion, as I try to grapple with all of my old and newfound interests. My idea of growth is constantly challenged by balancing the mundane and adventure: why do I simultaneously long for nostalgia but fear staying the same?
Slip stitch and fasten off.
Some things will stay the same, and some things will completely change in the coming years. The hustle and bustle will return in the fall. My temporary Princeton recluse has taught me that I have absolutely no idea what peace, chaos, or perhaps both are coming next. I will not be able to answer that question, but I will figure out a little more every day.
One stitch at a time. Tapestry of my life.
Chloe Lau is a staff Prospect writer and a staff Features writer for the ‘Prince.’ She can be reached at chloelau[at]princeton.edu.
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