Stanford students hustle and bustle and achieve. And sometimes, in the midst of all that, they forget the treasure chest that is this University. Sunk at the bottom of the sea, surrounded by silver fish and warped underwater light — the jewels and quirks are ours for the appreciating. I experimented with deep sea diving this past week (last ocean metaphor I promise) and what I found was a greater connectivity to this place and to myself.
It was Monday after the dorm ski trip and I felt snowed in. Between readings about Dandies for fashion class and a looming rhetorical analysis draft due, my inner goddess was definitely not dancing the tango. Desperate times call for the Law School Library, where the button-down lawyers-to-be always inspire me to break out my SAT words. Upon walking in, I was greeted by a rack of bikes for loan, inclusively named Lily, Paolo and Coco. A few more steps in and I saw the chess set. Oversized black and white marble pieces arranged in a Sicilian defense. A study break to the bathroom revealed my personal favorite element of the building — the Toepener — a staple-shaped device attached to the bottom left hand-side of the door. Don’t want to put your just washed hands on the dirty doorknob, no sweat. Use your toes instead!
Tuesday in between classes, my stomach was calling for something sweet. Enter Cubberley Cafe, the wonderfully dank basement food provider whose rice crispies are inflated past the point of no return. Later in the day, a few minutes early to work, I slipped into one of the many McMurtry building alcoves, the chairs of which are shaped like stress balls and made out of colorful mesh. Heading to Sig Nu for a late-night seminar, I lay down for a moment of cloud gazing in the backyard arbor, complete with a deflated lazy boy, twinkle lights, and artfully wrapped vines.
Wednesday dawned gray and early, and knocking back earl grey tea, I noticed the lectern. Designed with teachers in mind, a hand-shaped crevice was whittled out for their convenience. Going for a walk outside of FloMo, I stumbled (literally I was checking my emails and fell in) to the Faculty Club’s pond, complete with picturesque pink water lilies. Later that evening I arrived for a gathering of the Stanford Zen group at Old Union. Spread out on meditation cushions in the multi-faith Circle Sanctuary, we took in the tapestries and all-inclusive iconography.
Lots and lots of Thai tea on Thursday prompted frequent stops to the third-floor bathroom of Building 120, the furthest stall of which is so thoughtfully stocked with a quaint purple paper bag full of feminine products. A late-night class led a gaggle of us girls to a far back booth at Treehouse, slurping up strands of nacho cheese on the plaid-covered table.
Biking off campus on Friday led me past Escondido Village, the Stanford burbs where a red ping-pong table had appeared alongside a plastic playground full of tiny tots and their miniature bikes. It is easy to get caught up in the bustling pace of our days. Sometimes our vision narrows and all we see is our to-do list, looming ever larger and more accessible (I have a love-hate relationship with phone calendars). But let’s make a pact not to forget how joyfully whimsical Stanford can feel the moment we take notice.
Contact Hannah Broderick at inbloom ‘at’ stanford.edu.