Opaque Purple Boxes

This morning, our professor handed out small, opaque boxes and instructed us to partner up and draw what we thought was inside. It was a peculiar task, given that the boxes were sealed and made of purple plastic, which prevented us from peeking in. So, we resorted to shaking them, trying to decipher the contents through sound and weight. Was it a marble? A die? Maybe even a maze-like structure within? We speculated and sketched, but no matter how precise our guesses were, we couldn’t be sure what was inside.

Our professor explained that this seemingly trivial exercise mirrored the way we often learn about the world. Despite our best efforts, some things remain uncertain. Science and technology might bring us closer to the truth, but our understanding is never absolute—it’s merely "good enough."

Like many other topics discussed in this particular seminar, this idea stuck with me, and my thoughts drifted to how it applies to life, especially my own future. Much like the mystery boxes, the future is something we can’t fully grasp, no matter how much we prepare or predict. It’s an enigma we must learn to navigate with limited certainty. No matter how much we manifest, idealize, dream, or guess, we are never fully sure of what lies ahead of us. 

It was frigid outside today, and the thought nearly evaporated as I walked down the snowy path to my next class. There, my next professor was giving her syllabus spiel and other sorts when the lecture took a particularly timely turn as she addressed us: "To all of you who are unsure, you are exactly where you are supposed to be. Every area of interest is worth pursuing."

You might have seen similar sentiments written on a coffee mug in Marshalls, or on an Instagram post your mom sent to you from her favorite motivational quote account. Nevertheless, it is important to hear, and you should be reminded.

So, to anyone starting a new semester, sure or unsure of your major; to any graduates beginning a new job that aligns or doesn’t align with your prior hopes; especially to all my rising freshmen in college, who may or may not know where you are going next year or if you are going away to school at all; and all the rest who are reading this, remember: You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. You are exactly where you are supposed to be, no matter where that describes. You can shake the mystery box and grow frustrated having no idea what is inside. You can shake the mystery box and think you know exactly what lies inside and be incorrect. Whether your sketch of the future is detailed or vague, the mystery box of life holds surprises that can’t be predicted. And that’s okay.

Depending on your personality, this concept might accompany great comfort or discomfort, but regardless, I hope you realize, as I am reminding myself this new year, that you can still find authentic enjoyment in the unknown. You might feel as though you are clueless and everyone else has it figured out, but I promise no one’s sketches scratch the surface of transparency. 

Love,

El