A Kenan Stadium Perspective

Ever since my freshman year, I’ve had one place on campus that has been a sort of escape for me. I always visit it whenever I really need a moment alone to gain perspective. Whether what sends me there is good, bad, or somewhere in the middle—I always walk away seeing clearer.

This spot is Kenan Stadium—a 美国北卡罗来纳大学教堂山分校 staple and center of many fall Saturdays in Chapel Hill. It’s usually filled to the brim with excited Tar Heel fans and a sea of Carolina blue, but I prefer it completely empty.?

Whenever I visit Kenan, I find a chair in the dead center of the 200 level section, about the 4th row up, and sit down. I take it in. Every time I enter that stadium, the view somehow still shocks me. I always forget how big it really is.

It’s hard to stand in the 200 level of any empty stadium and not feel small. I think sometimes we get so trapped in the small box of our own lives that we forget our own insignificance. I'm not saying that we're all unimportant. I believe that every single person was created with intention, purpose, and intricate design—but I also believe that limiting your view to your own little world is limiting yourself.

I walk into that stadium each time with something on my mind, and whether it's weighing me down or has me soaring on cloud 9, I can't help but gaze at all 50,500 chairs and remember that whatever it is, it's not everything. It gives me hope in the midst of distress, and humility on the mountaintops.

It helps me to see the beauty in my smallness. I am just one single individual on a planet of almost 8 billion people. So are you. It's about time we all embraced that!

Each day we pass hundreds of people on highways and streets that have their own stories, with their own roadblocks or celebrations that feel like the end, or the beginning, of their lives. But the reality is, no matter how big or small that "thing" is that you're experiencing, the world keeps spinning.

These moments of realization in Kenan strip my present circumstances of their power. They remind me that nothing I face holds the power to end or define my world. They show me that this one moment in time is just that: a moment in time. Whatever it is, big or small, one day I'll look back and it will just be a blip—either a bump in the road (that surely taught me a lesson and contributed to character development), or a stepping block, a helpful push, that helped me reach my current destination.

It's hard to sit in an empty stadium and not feel like your circumstances are small.

I'm able to zoom out and look at my life from a birds eye point of view. I can imagine my life on a timeline, with just a small red dot marking my place now. I can see that much time has passed, but there's time still left. I reflect on the other moments I've encountered that once felt like the end-all-be-all, like the climax of my life, that also turned out to just be a passing moment. I'm able to trust that this mountain or valley will be one of those too.

Sitting in 1 of 50,500 chairs in Kenan Stadium, I am able to gain perspective.

So, next time you're near a stadium, don't underestimate its usefulness without the electric crowd or game day energy.

I dare you to walk in, take a seat, sit in the silence for a bit, and allow the weight of your circumstances to slowly float away into the breeze.