We’re halfway through the semester …When’s the last time you did something silly?

In the complete relaxation mode of my Reading Days, I questioned just how I was able to keep going during those previous seven action-packed weeks. How did I cope with the pressures of extracurriculars? The focus required in classes? What prodded me to walk up from the Greens House every day as I grimaced through the blinds at that jerk of a Hill?

I found that my motivation came in the art of Intentional Flailing.

You know when you think a spider is somewhere on your person and freak out? Legs jump and arms wave, your entire body in random motion? Intentional Flailing is kind of like this, except without the spider and with the addition of abundant laughter.

I choose to partake in Intentional Flailing with a friend during our late night walks around campus. Whenever we need a break from readings or e-mails or papers or thinking in general, we hit the streets (or rather sidewalks) and flail it up. We usually start with walking at whatever pace our bodies tell us, and we often find this is ridiculously slow. It’s no surprise really, since college life seems to demand our legs take us as fast as possible.

When we walk without a purpose we find we are free to walk as slow or as fast as we want: we are without the pressure that so heavily influences our daily routine.

From here we usually advance to skipping. My friend tends to stick with the traditional technique with knees reaching equal height as she launches herself from the pavement. I, however, enjoy dabbling in the One-Sided Skipping method in which only one of my legs propels me forward and the other simply walks. It’s like a swagger on speed. And yes, it’s supposed to look ridiculous.

And now, my friends, we enter into complete Intentional Flailing. We find as our bodies experience more movement and height we want no longer control them, to hold them in. Our skips turn into giant leaps, our arms punch the sky like Superman or wave like a crippled bird, our heads facing up into the dark night. We giggle like we are five again and are completely OK with that.

I feel it is so easy for college students to lose touch with themselves. In the midst of trying to figure out who we are or who we want to be, we distract ourselves from the fact that we are living. In what we are told to be the “best years of our lives,” we are overwhelmed by demands to get good grades, get more involved, get an internship, be more social, work hard and party hard, and make our lives count. How are we to understand ourselves if we are consistently fed this contrasting idea of “Yes, you should make time for yourself!” but “Oh, don’t forget about all your responsibilities!”

As silly as it is, Intentional Flailing is my way of breaking free of the mold into which I squeeze my body. Not only does my mind get into a rut when keeping the same routine, but my physical body does too. Through random movement I shake up the blood, I clear the lungs, I engage the muscles, I enliven the soul. I feel something I haven’t felt in a while: honest and passionate energy.

My proposal to you, Gusties, is to find your Intentional Flailing, the thing that connects your body and soul and breaks you free from habit. It doesn’t even have to be spontaneous: Go ahead and make a production of it! The point is to do it for you. It could be Tai Chi in the Arb, dancing while brushing your teeth, eating in the shower (with friends?), making leaf-angels in Eckman Mall, or even just sitting in a different chair in class.

I have no idea how or why college life has been made into this contradiction of demands. What I can do is share how I manage it all, how I make (or not to make) sense of it, and encourage you all to mix it up.
Flail on, Gusties. Flail on.