When I think of spring, my mind consistently nestles into the depths of small, seemingly insignificant memories from my four years in a small, northern college town during my university years.
Despite continuing our evening-time debauchery (in minimal clothing) in sub-zero temperatures, I’d never felt a shift in seasons quite like I did in late March during this era of my life.
The grassy hills on campus were covered with bikini-clad students, while neighboring fraternity brothers moved their parties from their houses’ musty basements to the backyard. The smell of burning briquettes and a bustling energy invaded the town in a way that gave light to new hope.
It was as though we’d been sleepwalking our way through the past several months and suddenly came alive. And as early twenty-somethings seeped in too much energy and the excitement of our newfound independence, we were quick to change our routines to soak up the extra daylight.
Nobody was there to tell us it was time to come inside, and we weren’t yet jaded by life or desensitized to the glory that is the shifting seasons. For the first time, we got to do it our way.
So, why did this time stick out so much, and what can we learn from our college-aged selves? As it turns out, there was some real science behind our madness and some youthful wisdom to impart on our more-knowing counterparts. Here are three things we can do to make spring as euphoric as it was at 19.
When we do the same thing day in and day out, we create an increased sense of stability, making us feel safer even in the depths of uncertainty – it’s the ultimate biohack. We curated our favorite flavors and created the sundowner bundle for this reason. By layering a pleasurable sensory experience with the turn of the day, we can make the moment all the more special.
While we’re quick to dissect our passions and desires from childhood when looking for a compass to our callings, I, for one, have dismissed the magic I felt in my college years, mostly dubbing it a comical chapter filled with unsophisticated debauchery.
But, upon further reflection, I see it a bit differently. How did I choose to interact with the world in my early moments as a newly independent being? I plan to spend this week channeling the excitement of my 19 year-old self on the first 65 degree day of spring.