Just as it was shared in a like-minded conversation with my math professor on the last day of class last quarter (Q2), two quarters of college—two quarters of my first year (freshman year) of college—really flew by. And wow, is that quite the feeling to take in? Well, there go approximately 22 weeks of my life.

In so many moments, well, most significantly at the start of the quarter, the first few weeks I told myself I had figured out what it meant to “delight”—what it meant to write a delight or, in terms of verb form, what it meant to delight.

Given the multitude of questions I faced in regards to any shroud of continuing this practice and this inconsistent written weekly delight (as evidenced by the end of Quarter 1), I ultimately caved.

Even if I wasn’t really going to write anything, even if I could only churn out a good piece or two, I felt there was or is such a delight in continuation, this odd linearity, that I guess with anything of value to oneself, I ultimately decided to give it a shot.

I mean, why not?

Quarter 2 brought about a series of realizations in regards to this practice, as there is always this want to bring something new with another volume, or in this case, "quarter,” to prevent it from getting stale and redundant, and I suppose I also saw it as a redemption to right my wrongs, to change my approach, to tell better stories, to find more delight in this far from limitless school, and maybe in some ways not meander as much. But in terms of new avenues to explore, in many ways, Quarter 1 had everything. It had the energy (until it didn’t). It had life (until it didn’t). It had the freshness and everything else I could’ve asked for in the introduction to my work in the field of delight, and it perfectly aligned with the start of college life. Isn’t that exciting?

And I can’t forget Katharine’s loving support.

In many ways, at the end of Quarter 1, or towards the tail end, when an uptick in pieces occurred, the energy, drive, and purpose of the practice sort of died. Though that was something that was hard to admit, I denied it many times, perhaps because of the pride I had in my work and the ultimate nature of how it sort of altered and shifted my life and the way I viewed the world around me. I was almost doing things and acting under the umbrella of delight, almost as a way to convince myself that I was happy and that I could be happy, largely as a way to say that I was okay when maybe I was not.

I think I became infatuated with my work and the feeling that I was making something, adding something to my name, when it truly was providing more hurt than help. In some ways, Quarter 2 brought about a series of realizations about this practice that I didn’t fully understand or what it entailed, despite initially telling myself I had it all figured out. This is the type of piece I’m going to write. These are the types of things I’m going to pay attention to. Approach it this way. Little did I know life would throw me for a loop in the most unexpected of ways, right when the ball really got rolling. Not long after my birthday, while in the library with friends, I received an email from an unexpected somebody from my school, someone I never thought I’d have to talk to, telling me to set up a meeting as she had something to say.

The email was directed at me. And as is true for many college emails (or life in general), that isn’t always the case.

For all the things I may have seen or experienced, I couldn’t quite capture what they wanted with me, and that was definitely unnerving. All the while, I felt like I was still nursing a wounded dog. To later find out after a series of unfortunate events that it had everything to do with a book self-bound with out-of-pocket money for the sake of sharing, more specifically Memories of Finn Quarter 1, I wouldn’t be lying if I said that further unmotivated me. 

But, keeping this part of the book true to what it’s meant to be, as it’s by no means the acknowledgements section, there is never enough gratitude, but thank you to all the people who guided me along and motivated me. Though at its core this was a personal endeavor, this wouldn’t be here without all the people who made it what it was. Sometimes you need someone to tap you on the shoulder and point for you to look up. Whether it’s a turkey vulture or simply (by no means simply) the sky above, this book is filled with an abundance of these things. 

Though this book is truly a book of delight, grudge, and college stories in many ways, a great thanks, in some ways an extension, a tribute to the work of Ross Gay and his work on delights in application to my life in this college setting, his work is a great reminder that it’s okay to not always stay true to the rules you set, to find the joy, the good, the hint of laughter in even the littlest of things, to not forget to cherish their worth, and that there’s always time for delight.

Going back to a thing I told my friend in conversation after the conception of Memories of Finn Quarter 1, this is a book that is meant to be read linearly and nonlinearly. It’s a book of memories, a book of gratitude, and ultimately a book of love. 

And with that, may we embark on this journey together once more.