Sometimes being on a college campus is nice insulation from the darker side of life. It’s odd how much safer one feels, however unjustly, just being on campus versus being a few streets over. Occasionally, however, the college life is a bit too isolated to the point where I get off-campus and am surprised to see children or old people because it’s been a long time since I met anyone under 18 or over 40 (who wasn’t lecturing).

This stagnation and isolation allows us pleasant distance to think and learn, but it also keeps us in a cocoon that separates us from the important goings-on of the general populous.

Not that that’s necessarily a bad thing. In a lot of cases it is probably a good thing, however, we may be missing out on some big things. Lucky for you, I’m here to keep you from missing out on one such milestone.

According to census experts in a CNN.com article, today, at 7:46 a.m., the population of the United States is projected to reach the 300 million mark. What exactly does this mean for us, in our collegiate bubble? Besides a conveniently round number to memorize as an approximate population and bring out impressively when a professor mentions it at a later date, probably not too much.

Now I could go on about the economic, immigration and environmental issues with which this milestone is naturally linked. However, in my many mindless hours of pursuing the matter I’ve found that the more interesting issue is, to quote Jane Austen (yeah, I went there, I’m one of those), Ã’knowing our own nothingness beyond our own circle.Ó Because, really, the bigger the world gets the less important everything seems. I’ve determined that one of the worst things that can happen to a sensitive (read as: thinking) person is becoming a Ã’big pictureÓ person. I find that anything can be analyzed to the point where it becomes useless and that the more one focuses on the sheer number of people in the world the more impotent and ridiculous one feels when one attempts to bring about change.

For example, I am spending precious time on my all-too-short fall break writing this. With the exception of people who know me, I would guess about 50 people will consider reading this, perhaps half will look at the headline or first paragraph and then move on. That leaves about 25 people reading my column. Now, 15 of those people are probably mind-numbingly bored (sorry guys, hang in there, things are bound to improve) and are just passing time. So, now we’re left with 10 people that are reading this with active minds. Maybe one of those people will remember what they read here long enough to let it make the tiniest of impacts on their life.

All the time I spent thinking and writing, may, if I’m lucky, help out one person one time. Now those odds aren’t terrible really. I’d love it if everything I did could help one person. But, if I thought about it too much, I could come to the conclusion that this is a colossal waste of time and that I’m not doing anything worth the effort I put in.

However, rather than giving in to that thought, I find it’s better to focus on the one you can help and avoid thinking that the one is one in 300 million — or 6 billion, depending on how bleak we want to get with this — almost all of whom will never know you exist or know that you would like them to be happy. Which, incidentally, is the most depressing thought that I’ve encountered in a long time.

So my big advice, which I am still struggling to follow, is to think about what you are doing, but don’t think too much. Think about goals, but don’t think about how every little thing fits in to the big picture; you’ll never be able to motivate yourself to do anything. And, when you look around and you realize that none of this really matters and nothing would change if you never got out of bed again, remember that something doesn’t have to be important to be valuable or good and that one in 300 million is still one.

E-mail Kate at [email protected].