High school is over, time flies – Self-reflection is scary, but necessary for growth

Reflection.

It’s the optimal word to describe my Jesuit High School Experience. The Ignatian value of discernment and reflection has been steeped in the culture of my high school and therefore colored the way I now move about life.

As a freshman, I hated writing reflections about faith, social life, and service. I found all my words fairly repetitive — inadequate at describing anything profound that my theology or English teacher would have found interesting.

During my sophomore year, I hated reflecting on my mental health and daily habits. My junior year, it felt unnecessary to reflect on anything, as I wasn’t a senior and I was sure that one more year would “wizen” me up.

But now it’s my senior year. Or rather the end of it. I’ve reflected on God enough to find real faith. I’ve examined my screen time and self-talk habits enough to understand how to optimize real pleasure and not dopamine hits on Instagram reels.

Yet, I’ve found time itself to be the hardest thing to grasp onto. So, as I was doing my final senior reflection, which is to be printed and published along with the reflections of all my peers, I chose time as my muse.

When I was in the fifth grade, I noticed every year seemed to quicken in pace. And it’s this pace I’ll still be fathoming as I cross the stage at graduation.

Here is my senior reflection — in all its over-the-top sentimentality.

I want to tell you we have time, though I know the truth.
We have time,
but not like it was.
When time got pulled from teeth
Placed in white capsules for home.
Positioned under pillows.
And then the magic of sleeping. Time-lapsed dreaming.
Dreaming and waiting for this world to absorb it.
Time, time, time again
This world blinks, responds, purrs. Rumbles with magic.
I’ve got it cemented in my bones. Stepped on when wet.
Handprints and skeleton leaves and chalk dust
It’s all in my bones.
She whispers “time.” Like it’s a secret –
“Time goes by fast.”
Time, in bones and salmon and the McKenzie River
In peonies and baby’s breath and slow, summer monarchs
Is it childish to say I want it all back? As I fasten this square hat and wizarding robe.
You, a younger me, shrug your shoulders. You don’t know.
But school is long.
The world seems endless.
And all that time, well,
to you it seems useless.

Lastly, thanks to everyone who read my little blurbs over the years.

Elisabeth Dellit is a graduating senior from Jesuit High School. Since she will be starting college in the Fall, this will be her last essay for the BRG. We wish her the best of luck!