Tradition

It was an odd Christmas back in Wisconsin this year. No snow on the ground, temps were in the balmy 40s, and – for the first time in my life– I had no real part in preparations. My dad had already put up the lights outside, my mother had unpacked the snowmen and Santa Clauses and set the nativity herself, and the tree was lit and sparkling with ornaments when I walked through the door early Friday morning. It was good to be home, don’t get me wrong, but something just felt so different from years past.

Maybe it was my fault. After all, I was the one wearing cowboy boots and asking for grits instead of hashbrowns with my breakfast.

Or maybe it's just part of growing up -- the realization that the house I had grown up in is no longer my home. My life is in D.C., not Wisconsin, and this Christmas I was made painfully aware that the traditions I once held so dearly may not be compatible with the life I now lead.

Tradition has always been an important part of my life. As a Polish Roman Catholic, my entire heritage is based on rich history, and my interest in Greek Life was first piqued by the mysterious rituals of fraternity and sorority. The idea that something created hundreds or thousands of years ago still has value in todays world is so powerful to me. But where did these customs come from? What we now see as comforting and familiar had to have been new and unheard of at some point.

I'm not one for New Year's resolutions, but I felt particularly inspired this weekend and decided that this will be the year I stake my own claim on life. While still respecting the traditions of yore, I can start my own. Whether they be small like a New Year's Day PJ brunch or as extravagant as a week-long spa vacation, I'm determined to stop living behind the comforting veil of conventional wisdom and start doing something new. Customs and heritage are what we fall back on -- not what should be determining our next move.

Stay hungry. Stay foolish. Live your best life!