“Pftoom, Pftoom,” a basketball hits the cement of an uneven driveway. As the ball rolls through my palm, I instinctively turn my feet diagonally but parallel away from the basket. It feels so natural, guiding the ball up from my knee to my hip, pushing up with my arm and over my chest. In one swift motion, the basketball flies through the air. Everything goes quiet, with only a crisp autumn breeze in the air. At this moment, everything is perfect. The sun is shining, I completed all my homework at school, dinner is hot and ready inside, I am spending quality time with my brothers, and for all I know, this basketball is about to swish through the hoop. 

“Clank!” The ball hits the front off the front of the rim, making an ugly sound and bouncing right into my hands. Suddenly, my hands are dry. The ball is so cold it hurts to hold. I look around, see a shoe print in the slush, and feel a sharp wind on my cheek. I look down at my watch, reading 7 a.m. “Oh crap,” I think to myself. I’m gonna be late again. I should not have stopped to take a shot. February in Wisconsin is a pretty gloomy time of year. Bitterly cold, yet no snow, and the sun sets at 4 pm every day. As I climb into my car and watch my breath crystalize, I wish I could be with my older brothers instead of going to high school. The daily realization of loneliness sets in, and it seems like forever until it will get warmer again. When you are little, you do not have a concept of time or how much more you have with your siblings before they go off on their own. I have two older brothers, one is four years older than me, and the other six. It did not hit me until high school that my time with them would become much more limited. During my junior year of high school, my dad got a new job. It took place during the pandemic, so it was a remote job for a company based in Arizona. I did not think of it too much until we learned that they wanted the employees to start coming back to the office. When he began splitting his time between Wisconsin and Arizona, it felt like he was spending an eternity in each location. However, it was only a couple of weeks in each. 

As my time in high school went on and my happiness dwindled, I realized we do not appreciate some things until they are gone. Sometimes I would be annoyed when my brothers were blasting music from their room or having to share our video games. I could have chosen to use those times as opportunities to spend more time with my brothers, but instead, I chose to be alone. Now, those have become some of my most cherished memories. 

In college, I have to deal with the heat in Arizona. The weather here is the polar opposite of Wisconsin. Instead of brutally cold, it is brutally hot. The extreme Arizona heat represents the pressure to make new friends and be successful in college, while also appreciating the good moments. The sun beats down on you, and the pressure inside you builds up to have a successful freshman year. And though the number on the heat index does not exactly decrease every day, it still progressively declines. This shows that even at the worst of the heat, there are still good things going on around it that make it bearable and it will get better, just like fighting through the winters in Wisconsin. 

Some people may argue that while taking ownership of our emotions is important, external circumstances may overcome what control we have. Though this is true in some cases, we always have control over how we react and respond to a situation. We also can reach out to other people if needed. The caveat of the inclement weather is that while unbearable, it will get better. Just as the bad times will get better, or you will grow more resilient to them. 

Every time I meet a new person, it is like attempting a shot in basketball. Either it goes in or it does not; either they like me or they do not. Either way, every shot you take increases your chance of making the next one in the long run. Every make sharpens your skills, and every miss shows where you can improve. 

For too long, I have let the weather and external factors in my life dictate my happiness. At ASU, I have worked to do the best at what I can control: my effort, what I do with my time, and my mindset. My oldest brother moved to Phoenix, and I can start to make up for missed time. In a dream world, every day would be seventy-five degrees and sunny, and nothing would be out of our control.  In reality, we cannot control the weather, but we can control how we let it make us feel and enjoy the seventy-five-degree days when they come.