That is what I've decided to make my resolution this year-- to Stand for Myself. Capital S.
Over the years, there have only been a few time periods in which I told myself that I'm awesome and actually believed it. Those were the times when I liked myself best. I liked myself and accordingly let myself struggle. I let myself be happy and grow. In thinking of a resolution for this year, I wanted to break down what those moments encompassed so that I could get to them more quickly, more often. And what I came down to is as follows:
So, reading over what I just wrote, this whole concept is still vague. Here's how I've decided to bring tangible check marks to the theme:
-- Speak Up.
And out. I usually classify myself as a space filler in conversations. If someone has a quieter demeanor, or if I'm meeting a new group of people, I have no problem being talkative/engaging people. But in a situation in which there are bigger personalities in the room or everyone else already knows each other, I fade. This year and onward, I want to continue to hold my own in any situation. Being a chameleon isn't necessarily a bad thing but I have my own voice and personality and want to use them. In terms of the speaking out thing, I don't want to keep brushing things I have a problem with under the rug for the sake of peace. "We are not passive victims of our own internalized biases." and I want to point out what those biases are for both myself and others. I need to stop putting pleasantness over truth.
-- Try one new thing a month.
I know myself enough to know that I get bored easily. When I find something new and stimulating whether that's trying a new food or recipe, going on a random adventure, or doing a new month-long challenge, I become interested in more aspects of my life. Suddenly, I have a new story to tell and a new way to move forward. I'm taking a step forward in being a better self.
-- Stop apologizing when I don't need to.
Saying 'sorry' all the time isn't really a polite gesture, it's apologizing for existing. I'm not sorry for that and I don't want to act as though I am.
-- Spend no more than 90 minutes a day on social media.
Does it revoke my title as a millennial to say that I'm honestly not a fan of social media? I appreciate its value-- helping people stay in touch and share photos and memories from their lives and what not. But right now I spend an exorbitant amount of time just scrolling and swiping and I hate it. For me personally, I don't like always observing others' highlight reels. I'm happy for friends, absolutely. But I want to use that time making my own reel instead.
-- Workout 3x a week.
This one is a New Year's classic. But I truly feel better about myself when I'm being healthy. I feel lighter on my feet, more awake, happy, confident. So I'm going for it. Whether it's dancing or running or biking or whatever I can convince myself to do on a dreary, rainy day, I really want to do this.
--Post on this blog at least once a week.
I always tell myself to "write more" as a goal but I want to start quantifying things so they actually happen. Writing is my medicine and therapy and cheerleader all at once and I want to make sure to keep it a priority.
-- Call home at least once every other week.
I'm notorious for being very present in person but not staying in touch. My parents are wonderful people and I want to change that. Once a week is the real goal but I know myself enough to know that is a pretty big stretch for me. So this seems honestly doable.
--Put away my phone when at meals with people. Entirely.
How does this relate to Standing for Myself? Related to the social media resolution, I want to make my own memories, not just scroll through those that others are making. At the end of the day, I know I'll remember the conversations I have with people much more than anything I'll be reading on my phone at the time. So this is me making it happen.
And that's the list! Long-winded, yes, but it's how I'm breaking down the theme for myself.
Here's to 2016, the year of journeys!
Tuesday, December 29, 2015
Monday, December 28, 2015
The Faithfulness of God
When I was in medical school, I received a call that two college students needed help. I was young at the time, maybe just a couple years into the beginning of my medical practice. They didn't tell me anything else-- just the location and that there were two people to look for.
So I got into an ambulance and headed over to the college campus. When I got there, there were two young women waiting. Kofo and your mom.
That was when I was officially interested. Later that day, I asked her if she wanted to accompany me go check out the housing I would be hopefully staying in the next year when I was working for the military hospital. She said sure.
The day of the trip came around and she joined me. It was just me, her, and three or so of my brothers. It blew me away how well she got along with each of them-- as though they had grown up on the same street.
A couple days later my older brother took me aside as well. Note these were two individual, unrelated conversations. He said that I may be young and still playing around now but something about her made him want to tell me to take this potential relationship very seriously. With two brothers telling me this on their own, I started to see the dots. In the physician nap room, I had prayed for God to send me someone. Someone who could be my wife, my best friend, my mother, and my sister. I saw the compassion she had demonstrated by taking care of her friend in the ambulance. Her honesty with the dress. Her kindness and personableness that made her feel immediately a part of the family. God was creating a constellation for me.
So I got into an ambulance and headed over to the college campus. When I got there, there were two young women waiting. Kofo and your mom.
You have to understand at this point in the story what it meant to be a professional in the medical profession in Nigeria at the time. There could be absolutely no, none, relationship between a physician and a patient.
I didn't know much of the situation so I asked what was wrong. Your mom told me that her best friend, Kofo, was feeling sick. She was just here to help. So she got in the ambulance and we went to the hospital together.
And that was it. Just a regular physician/patient interaction. In a city as big as Lagos, I didn't expect to see her again.
But I did. A few weeks later, I saw her again-- I believe it was in the marketplace near campus. I was surprised. Running into people who I had only met in passing was not a common occurrence. So I went up to her and asked her if she was the one from the ambulance a few weeks back. She said yes and I asked her how her friend was doing. She said she was feeling better and that was essentially the extent of our conversation. Very professional.
Then, somehow, not even a month later, I saw her again. She was standing with her friends in this beautiful pink dress. I liked the way it looked on her and I told her so. She said it was her sister's.
And that was it. Just a regular physician/patient interaction. In a city as big as Lagos, I didn't expect to see her again.
But I did. A few weeks later, I saw her again-- I believe it was in the marketplace near campus. I was surprised. Running into people who I had only met in passing was not a common occurrence. So I went up to her and asked her if she was the one from the ambulance a few weeks back. She said yes and I asked her how her friend was doing. She said she was feeling better and that was essentially the extent of our conversation. Very professional.
Then, somehow, not even a month later, I saw her again. She was standing with her friends in this beautiful pink dress. I liked the way it looked on her and I told her so. She said it was her sister's.
This is where God got me. He know me better than anyone. He knows that uncommon truth gets my attention.
In Lagos in this time, a lot was fake. No matter if a woman got her dress from a store down the street, she wanted to make herself bigger than she was. Most people did. Instead of being honest, she would say she got the dress in Paris or Rome-- something like that.
Your mother was different. She was very honest in saying that it was her sister's, thereby owning up to the fact that it was borrowed. This kind of honesty was so uncommon that it caught my attention immediately. I asked myself if it was possible to find someone, here in the midst of all of these lies and images, so simple and so true. An honest person who must truly fear God.
Your mother was different. She was very honest in saying that it was her sister's, thereby owning up to the fact that it was borrowed. This kind of honesty was so uncommon that it caught my attention immediately. I asked myself if it was possible to find someone, here in the midst of all of these lies and images, so simple and so true. An honest person who must truly fear God.
That was when I was officially interested. Later that day, I asked her if she wanted to accompany me go check out the housing I would be hopefully staying in the next year when I was working for the military hospital. She said sure.
The day of the trip came around and she joined me. It was just me, her, and three or so of my brothers. It blew me away how well she got along with each of them-- as though they had grown up on the same street.
Days past and my younger brother took me aside. He knew that I had several "fans", as he liked to call them, on campus. I was young, good looking, a doctor... but he said it was very clear to him. He told me that for what it was worth, his vote only went to one. Guess who.
A couple days later my older brother took me aside as well. Note these were two individual, unrelated conversations. He said that I may be young and still playing around now but something about her made him want to tell me to take this potential relationship very seriously. With two brothers telling me this on their own, I started to see the dots. In the physician nap room, I had prayed for God to send me someone. Someone who could be my wife, my best friend, my mother, and my sister. I saw the compassion she had demonstrated by taking care of her friend in the ambulance. Her honesty with the dress. Her kindness and personableness that made her feel immediately a part of the family. God was creating a constellation for me.
And so a relationship formed.
Since then, you know how wonderful your mother is. Her selflessness, her kindness... And the way God has blessed us! Four wonderful children. Who are not only good hearted and doing individually but are close. All four of you! I love how, whenever any of you has a hard decision to make, you call the other three to see what they think. Even me, I don't think I'm that close to any of my brothers and there are eight of us. Eight from the same mother and same father. My father had some other children too from a different woman but I didn't know them as well. I was closest to my late brother Matthew before his motorcycle accident. We grew up always, always, together. My other brothers didn't necessarily grow up in the same home.
Since then, you know how wonderful your mother is. Her selflessness, her kindness... And the way God has blessed us! Four wonderful children. Who are not only good hearted and doing individually but are close. All four of you! I love how, whenever any of you has a hard decision to make, you call the other three to see what they think. Even me, I don't think I'm that close to any of my brothers and there are eight of us. Eight from the same mother and same father. My father had some other children too from a different woman but I didn't know them as well. I was closest to my late brother Matthew before his motorcycle accident. We grew up always, always, together. My other brothers didn't necessarily grow up in the same home.
Anyway, all this is to say, that if you are faithful, God will bless you. You may not even know how or see the dots as they're formed but when you take a step back, you will see the connections he has made for you and all you'll be able to say is wow. He is faithful to different people in different ways. And I couldn't be more thankful.
This is the story my dad just told me about how he met my mom. That, and what came after. I thought it was beautiful and, naturally for me, needed to write it all down. He asked me what I might title this all if I made it into a book. When I didn't know, he said his choice would be The Faithfulness of God. So that's what it is. Amen.
This is the story my dad just told me about how he met my mom. That, and what came after. I thought it was beautiful and, naturally for me, needed to write it all down. He asked me what I might title this all if I made it into a book. When I didn't know, he said his choice would be The Faithfulness of God. So that's what it is. Amen.
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
21st Go Around the Sun
"You have something inside you that's going to change the world."
"The most important things are the hardest to say."
"Courage, dear heart."
"Nothing worthwhile is easy."
"Dormant creativity is not benign."
"The purpose of fiction is to combat loneliness."
"I keep waiting to feel more resolved, somehow."
"A writer is the sum of their experiences. Go get some."
"The only thing you're going to have is what you make."
"We are not passive victims of our own internalized biases."
"Write like you're running out of time."
"As you move forward, I implore you to try and find spaces where that authenticity can exist without caution. It won't be easy, and it won't always seem possible. But it's worth it."
"Folk die full of nostalgia for life."
"This is my dream reclamation year. I've spent a lot of time moving away from things that don't make me feel passionate because they're not as lucrative."
"I'm there to learn. I'm not there to win. If I learn, I'll win eventually."
"Success is a leap from one failure to the next with great enthusiasm."
"Sometimes the only way across the river is slipping on that first rock."
"Failure is not durable...The same things they fire you for when you're young are the ones they give you lifetime achievement award for when you're old."
"You're going to stumble into something like contentment."
"If everyone's trying to get through that one little door, you're in the wrong place. You've gotta think bigger than that."
"Nothing isn't better or worse than anything. Nothing is just nothing."
"Love is the death of duty."
"Her face is a map of the world."
"If someone had asked me my name right then, I wouldn't have known."
"The sooner you shut up, the sooner it will come to you. and the creative spirit will be like 'Bastard's taking credit for it again'."
"Don't wait for an idea to start. You start and then an idea will come."
"When people show you who they are, believe them."
"If she did ordinary things, they became enigmatic."
"He sold his body for science so that he could make art."
These are the quotes that I have on a desktop sticky note. I've been building the list for awhile now and I love coming back to it again and again.
Some of these words are inspirational and others are just ideas that stuck with me. As I begin my 21st year, I want to keep coming back to this. When I reflect, I keep coming back to the thought these are all parts of what I aspire to be. I want to keep reaching for more experiences while still being in and enjoying the ones I have now.
In my life thus far I have been so incredibly blessed and I can only imagine what is to come. So today, December 23rd, the day I was entered this world all of those years ago, I want to take a moment to be thankful.
Here's to legality and open doors!
In my life thus far I have been so incredibly blessed and I can only imagine what is to come. So today, December 23rd, the day I was entered this world all of those years ago, I want to take a moment to be thankful.
Here's to legality and open doors!
Friday, December 11, 2015
R.I.P. Erne
"We just need people to understand we are all human just the same. It will be hard, but I think it can be achieved. The thing is we have to do it one person at a time and if each person helps someone else understand, we can create a domino effect."
Thursday, December 10, 2015
Wednesday, December 2, 2015
Sunday, November 29, 2015
"I know you never intended to be in this world.
But you're in it all the same.
So why not get started immediately?
So why not get started immediately?
I mean, belonging to it.
There is so much to admire, to weep over.
There is so much to admire, to weep over.
And to write music or poems about.
Bless the feet that take you to and fro.
Bless the eyes and the listening ears.
Bless the tongue, the marvel of taste.
Bless touching."
Bless the eyes and the listening ears.
Bless the tongue, the marvel of taste.
Bless touching."
-The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac by Mary Oliver
Friday, November 27, 2015
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
"This is my dream reclamation year."
That's what someone told me during an interview and it's stuck with me.
I've spent a lot of time moving away from the things that I feel passionately for-- because they're not as lucrative or they don't "make sense". But as this year comes to an end, I'm realizing quickly that doesn't matter at all. This is not a dress rehearsal. This is my only chance. And as long as I'm doing well enough to be debt free and feed myself, no one can tell me that I've made the wrong choice. An intrinsic feeling of emptiness will do that for me.
I know it's not too late and it never is. Still, I want to get started before I lose myself again.
I've spent a lot of time moving away from the things that I feel passionately for-- because they're not as lucrative or they don't "make sense". But as this year comes to an end, I'm realizing quickly that doesn't matter at all. This is not a dress rehearsal. This is my only chance. And as long as I'm doing well enough to be debt free and feed myself, no one can tell me that I've made the wrong choice. An intrinsic feeling of emptiness will do that for me.
I know it's not too late and it never is. Still, I want to get started before I lose myself again.
Flaky
Of course, I'm angry. Yes, with you.
Not that you'd know that. Society killed my freedom to express anger years ago when I tried so hard to be the opposite of what people expected a black woman to be. But my anger is mine. It is mine, it is valid, and it has a right to be heard.
I'm angry with you because of your passivity.
You expect me to just be here.
You say you're busy. I know you're busy. We all do. We all are.
But if you really care for me, you should check in. Send a text message or call. Something.
You only tell me you miss me when you're drunk. I've stopped saying "I miss you, too." Now I just say "Okay." That response isn't because I don't miss you because I do-- or at least the friend you used to be to me. My okay results from a shaken belief that my shared sentiment will change anything. My okay translates to, "Great. We both know this. Now what?"
I'm mad that you're okay. You have your people. I'm angry that, as someone who I value so much in my life, and feel anxious when I haven't connected with in a long time, when the tables are turned and I fade, that changes nothing to you. I thought I added value to your life but maybe not as much as I thought.
Earlier this quarter, you told me I was one of your best friends. And that I always will be. How can that possibly be true if you don't take the time to be with me? How is that true when I am time and time again the person to reach out and you respond by shifting or canceling plans and 3 word text responses? Every time I try to make a plan with you I'm 65% sure it's not going to happen. Or if it does, you'll probably be thinking of something else or counting down the seconds before you can go to bed. I know you're tired but when you're with me, be with me. Now, instead of getting ready for a hangout the hour before, I wait for a message saying something came up.
"Things are just really crazy right now."
When are they not?
I should still be valuable enough for you to make me a priority, too. I deserve that much.
Not that you'd know that. Society killed my freedom to express anger years ago when I tried so hard to be the opposite of what people expected a black woman to be. But my anger is mine. It is mine, it is valid, and it has a right to be heard.
I'm angry with you because of your passivity.
You expect me to just be here.
You say you're busy. I know you're busy. We all do. We all are.
But if you really care for me, you should check in. Send a text message or call. Something.
You only tell me you miss me when you're drunk. I've stopped saying "I miss you, too." Now I just say "Okay." That response isn't because I don't miss you because I do-- or at least the friend you used to be to me. My okay results from a shaken belief that my shared sentiment will change anything. My okay translates to, "Great. We both know this. Now what?"
I'm mad that you're okay. You have your people. I'm angry that, as someone who I value so much in my life, and feel anxious when I haven't connected with in a long time, when the tables are turned and I fade, that changes nothing to you. I thought I added value to your life but maybe not as much as I thought.
Earlier this quarter, you told me I was one of your best friends. And that I always will be. How can that possibly be true if you don't take the time to be with me? How is that true when I am time and time again the person to reach out and you respond by shifting or canceling plans and 3 word text responses? Every time I try to make a plan with you I'm 65% sure it's not going to happen. Or if it does, you'll probably be thinking of something else or counting down the seconds before you can go to bed. I know you're tired but when you're with me, be with me. Now, instead of getting ready for a hangout the hour before, I wait for a message saying something came up.
"Things are just really crazy right now."
When are they not?
I should still be valuable enough for you to make me a priority, too. I deserve that much.
The Slow Goodbye
The beginning of my irrelevance is starting to sink in.
My role in Wildcat Welcome and NSFP is ending Friday.
On of my best friends in the world is graduating in 2 weeks.
I'm graduating next quarter.
I have a job.
My friends will no longer be a ten minute walk away. They're moving to other parts of the country and world.
I'm a senior. I am really a senior.
I'm almost done.
Really done. There's no going back from this point.
Everything feels like a memory as I'm living it.
Today was the first time that all of Board and Staff have been in the same room since the end of Wildcat Welcome. And it's the last time we will be for a long time, at least in the foreseeable future.
I left the meeting knowing I had to write about it. I wouldn't be able to sleep otherwise. We discussed the people who will be replacing us and I was transported back a year ago to my own reveal that feels so recent. I felt so trusting of the next generation of Wildcat Welcome.
But I also felt a deep sadness. A melancholy that shook me to my core in a way that only expiring timelines do.
I can never go back to this moment. I can never go back to last month or last year or the beginning of my relationship with the people I've met here or the end of others. I knew logically that this life is not a dress rehearsal early but I don't think I've ever felt it in the way I do now. Everything feels so accelerated. Everything matters and nothing does. I don't feel the need to drown myself in studying for the sake of the grade but I am signing up for things just for the chance to learn from them. Every interaction with friends has so much weight because I know the state of our relationship now is what I'm going to carry with me when I leave this place. Right now determines if we'll be friends in the afterward.
The afterward. That's what terrifies me. Once again, I know logically we're all going on to bigger things in better places and that Northwestern has done nothing but open doors for me. But now I'm at a point where my choices matter. They have an impact on who I am today and who I'll eventually become. Now there is no checklist. I can't plan 3 months at a time taking classes I know I have to. I make my own decisions either toward or away various trajectories of my future and that openness terrifies me. No one can tell me what to do but me.
I'm not sure if I'd feel the same way if I thought the world were safe. My gut says the feeling would persist but at the same time my current perception is tempered by the absurdly awful tragedies of recent times. Race relations, suicide bombs, senseless murders, natural disasters. The world is crumbling at our feet just as I prepare myself to take my first real step. I'm left wondering what matters. I mean what really matters. Who am I to be worried about where I'll be working and how fast I'll be able to find a mentor? I live with such privilege. The fact that I will have a college education and am surrounded by like-minded people with a well paying job in a safe environment is infinitely more than so many can dream of. In that way, I feel so much pain. At the same way, I feel as though I have no right to.
I know it's better to feel pain than nothing at all. To me, the opposite of love is indifference. But it hurts.
This year has been full of so much growth for me. I struggle to even articulate how much. I've grown in my confidence. I've met people who I believe have made me a better person and I've made conscious efforts to work toward being the kind of person I've needed at various times in my life. I know I don't have have to be perfect or even close. Yet, sometimes I wonder if I'm enough.
A year from now we'll all be gone, all our friends will move away.
And they're going to better to better places. But our friends will be gone away.
Nothing is as it has been as it has been and I miss your face like hell.
And I guess it's just as well but I miss your face like hell.
Been talking about the way things change
And my family lives in a different state
And if you don't know what to make of this, then we will not relate
So if you don't know what to make of this, then we will not relate
Rivers and roads, rivers and roads
Rivers till I reach you
Rivers and roads, rivers and roads
Rivers till I reach you
-- Rivers and Roads, The Head and The Heart
My role in Wildcat Welcome and NSFP is ending Friday.
On of my best friends in the world is graduating in 2 weeks.
I'm graduating next quarter.
I have a job.
My friends will no longer be a ten minute walk away. They're moving to other parts of the country and world.
I'm a senior. I am really a senior.
I'm almost done.
Really done. There's no going back from this point.
Everything feels like a memory as I'm living it.
Today was the first time that all of Board and Staff have been in the same room since the end of Wildcat Welcome. And it's the last time we will be for a long time, at least in the foreseeable future.
I left the meeting knowing I had to write about it. I wouldn't be able to sleep otherwise. We discussed the people who will be replacing us and I was transported back a year ago to my own reveal that feels so recent. I felt so trusting of the next generation of Wildcat Welcome.
But I also felt a deep sadness. A melancholy that shook me to my core in a way that only expiring timelines do.
I can never go back to this moment. I can never go back to last month or last year or the beginning of my relationship with the people I've met here or the end of others. I knew logically that this life is not a dress rehearsal early but I don't think I've ever felt it in the way I do now. Everything feels so accelerated. Everything matters and nothing does. I don't feel the need to drown myself in studying for the sake of the grade but I am signing up for things just for the chance to learn from them. Every interaction with friends has so much weight because I know the state of our relationship now is what I'm going to carry with me when I leave this place. Right now determines if we'll be friends in the afterward.
The afterward. That's what terrifies me. Once again, I know logically we're all going on to bigger things in better places and that Northwestern has done nothing but open doors for me. But now I'm at a point where my choices matter. They have an impact on who I am today and who I'll eventually become. Now there is no checklist. I can't plan 3 months at a time taking classes I know I have to. I make my own decisions either toward or away various trajectories of my future and that openness terrifies me. No one can tell me what to do but me.
I'm not sure if I'd feel the same way if I thought the world were safe. My gut says the feeling would persist but at the same time my current perception is tempered by the absurdly awful tragedies of recent times. Race relations, suicide bombs, senseless murders, natural disasters. The world is crumbling at our feet just as I prepare myself to take my first real step. I'm left wondering what matters. I mean what really matters. Who am I to be worried about where I'll be working and how fast I'll be able to find a mentor? I live with such privilege. The fact that I will have a college education and am surrounded by like-minded people with a well paying job in a safe environment is infinitely more than so many can dream of. In that way, I feel so much pain. At the same way, I feel as though I have no right to.
I know it's better to feel pain than nothing at all. To me, the opposite of love is indifference. But it hurts.
This year has been full of so much growth for me. I struggle to even articulate how much. I've grown in my confidence. I've met people who I believe have made me a better person and I've made conscious efforts to work toward being the kind of person I've needed at various times in my life. I know I don't have have to be perfect or even close. Yet, sometimes I wonder if I'm enough.
A year from now we'll all be gone, all our friends will move away.
And they're going to better to better places. But our friends will be gone away.
Nothing is as it has been as it has been and I miss your face like hell.
And I guess it's just as well but I miss your face like hell.
Been talking about the way things change
And my family lives in a different state
And if you don't know what to make of this, then we will not relate
So if you don't know what to make of this, then we will not relate
Rivers and roads, rivers and roads
Rivers till I reach you
Rivers and roads, rivers and roads
Rivers till I reach you
-- Rivers and Roads, The Head and The Heart
Monday, October 26, 2015
Song for Zula-- Phosphorescent
Some say love is a burning thing
That it makes a fiery ring
Oh but I know love as a fading thing
Just as fickle as a feather in a stream
See, honey, I saw love. You see, it came to me
It put its face up to my face so I could see
Yeah then I saw love disfigure me
Into something I am not recognizing
That it makes a fiery ring
Oh but I know love as a fading thing
Just as fickle as a feather in a stream
See, honey, I saw love. You see, it came to me
It put its face up to my face so I could see
Yeah then I saw love disfigure me
Into something I am not recognizing
See, the cage, it called. I said, “Come on in”
I will not open myself up this way again
Nor lay my face to the soil, nor my teeth to the sand
I will not lay like this for days now upon end
You will not see me fall, nor see me struggle to stand
To be acknowledge by some touch from his gnarled hands
You see, the cage, it called. I said, “Come on in”
I will not open myself up this way again
I will not open myself up this way again
Nor lay my face to the soil, nor my teeth to the sand
I will not lay like this for days now upon end
You will not see me fall, nor see me struggle to stand
To be acknowledge by some touch from his gnarled hands
You see, the cage, it called. I said, “Come on in”
I will not open myself up this way again
You see, the moon is bright in that treetop night
I see the shadows that we cast in the cold, clean light
My feet are gold. My heart is white
And we race out on the desert plains all night
See, honey, I am not some broken thing
I do not lay here in the dark waiting for thee
No my heart is gold. My feet are light
And I am racing out on the desert plains all night
I see the shadows that we cast in the cold, clean light
My feet are gold. My heart is white
And we race out on the desert plains all night
See, honey, I am not some broken thing
I do not lay here in the dark waiting for thee
No my heart is gold. My feet are light
And I am racing out on the desert plains all night
So some say love is a burning thing
That it makes a fiery ring
Oh but I know love as a caging thing
Just a killer come to call from some awful dream
O and all you folks, you come to see
You just stand there in the glass looking at me
But my heart is wild. And my bones are steam
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free
That it makes a fiery ring
Oh but I know love as a caging thing
Just a killer come to call from some awful dream
O and all you folks, you come to see
You just stand there in the glass looking at me
But my heart is wild. And my bones are steam
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free
Monday, October 19, 2015
Comet
"When I say it's a beautiful night... I mean it's comfortable, familiar, yet deeply moving"
"It's beautiful when the weather's not hot or cold. Kinda like you don't notice it. Kinda like it's perfect. Because everything's so balanced you don't even feel it. And while you're feeling that non-feeling, you look up in the sky and you almost think, That's Why. Because how everything is right now-- all the stars and planets, and us and the ground and all of the cells and molecules... right now is the reason that right now is comfortable."
"I'm just afraid I'm going to miss it. I miss things a lot."
"Then there's paintings. No beginning, no middle, no end... you just see what you want to see when you want to see it"
"Money for soul, an even swap."
"I need a drink. In a bad way.
"But I loved you. Being with you taught me that it doesn't have to look good on paper to feel good."
"You don't deserve me, I can tell." "That's good. I want someone I don't deserve."
"Always is scary. There's a finality to it. I just never want you to feel like a limitation."
"It's beautiful when the weather's not hot or cold. Kinda like you don't notice it. Kinda like it's perfect. Because everything's so balanced you don't even feel it. And while you're feeling that non-feeling, you look up in the sky and you almost think, That's Why. Because how everything is right now-- all the stars and planets, and us and the ground and all of the cells and molecules... right now is the reason that right now is comfortable."
"I'm just afraid I'm going to miss it. I miss things a lot."
"Then there's paintings. No beginning, no middle, no end... you just see what you want to see when you want to see it"
"Money for soul, an even swap."
"I need a drink. In a bad way.
"But I loved you. Being with you taught me that it doesn't have to look good on paper to feel good."
"You don't deserve me, I can tell." "That's good. I want someone I don't deserve."
"Always is scary. There's a finality to it. I just never want you to feel like a limitation."
Some thoughts
Is love a memory? Is every significant memory I have so because I've played it over and over in my mind?
When I line them up and put the stories of my life all in a row, I wonder how much the details I remember are true. I'll think of the exact words someone said that lingered with me or just the feeling surrounding a moment and I'll know it's true. But then, I wonder if I fill in the details from that point on. n my head, is the relationship I think I have with anyone, friend, acquaintance, or otherwise, that way because of how I perceive things to be or because that's how they are?
I feel like this constant back and forth in my mind might leave the people involved confused. A second that can mean so much for me can be remembered if only in passing and maybe something that I forget is what a connection is rooted in for someone else.
Just some thoughts.
When I line them up and put the stories of my life all in a row, I wonder how much the details I remember are true. I'll think of the exact words someone said that lingered with me or just the feeling surrounding a moment and I'll know it's true. But then, I wonder if I fill in the details from that point on. n my head, is the relationship I think I have with anyone, friend, acquaintance, or otherwise, that way because of how I perceive things to be or because that's how they are?
I feel like this constant back and forth in my mind might leave the people involved confused. A second that can mean so much for me can be remembered if only in passing and maybe something that I forget is what a connection is rooted in for someone else.
Just some thoughts.
Saturday, August 8, 2015
Explanation of Freed (What A Year)
Hey whoever's out there! So, below, there's this massive piece of text. I'm aware.
This is about something I've been blogging about all year so it's been kinda leaking out of me slowly but I decided that it's way past time to get it all out in its entirety. So that's what my goal was here and the 3 hours that I just spent sitting hear and writing it were really healing for me.
This is my first attempt at Spoken Word poetry so note that it's meant to be read aloud.
As those long time readers already know, this blog is where I get a lot of things out. The angst needs to go somewhere so I can keep moving forward with my life, right? So this is for me, but feel free to read it if you wish.
This is about something I've been blogging about all year so it's been kinda leaking out of me slowly but I decided that it's way past time to get it all out in its entirety. So that's what my goal was here and the 3 hours that I just spent sitting hear and writing it were really healing for me.
This is my first attempt at Spoken Word poetry so note that it's meant to be read aloud.
As those long time readers already know, this blog is where I get a lot of things out. The angst needs to go somewhere so I can keep moving forward with my life, right? So this is for me, but feel free to read it if you wish.
Freed (What a Year)
Have you ever broken your own heart?
The poem starts here.
The poem starts; I was here, and so were you. But it starts then. It starts that day when the kid who talks too much wouldn't take the hint that despite the fact that I was amused by his blah-blah-blahing and never-ending stories, eventually he could be exhausting. It starts that day because when I saw you there, blue shirt, summer skin still pale, and glasses too big for your brutally honest eyes, I thought nothing. I thought, if anything, you would be yet another passerby-I felt as if I knew you for a week-single use- good intentioned acquaintance.
And you were, once. For a moment. But God were you persistent. It was like the words, words, words, that were always spilling from your tongue somehow dribbled down your chin, down, down your skinny arms, across your open palms, to your fingertips, where they sent their light to me each time my phone light up in my pocket with a new message from you.
And it buzzed. And it shook me. And I began to anticipate that little tickle in my pocket. I looked forward to it. It was like there was a little piece of you in each message just stopping by to say, "Hey. I thought of you and wanted to make you smile today."
You grew on me.
And suddenly there were coffee meet ups, and, when that didn't give us enough time, lunches, dinners three times a week. My friends started asking where I was getting dinner this time instead of with whom because they already knew it was you. Because of course it was. Because it was there, with you, that I realized that I hadn't had a gut-wrenching, heart-draining talk filled with truth, too much truth, in far too long. To you, I poured out parts of myself that I thought had already dried up a long ways back. Parts that, somehow, each time I used them to water our growing friendship, seemed to replenish tenfold. Remember, I was still just getting to know you. Back then, I never understood why I trusted you so quickly, so easily. The simplicity of your honesty was singular, alarming then right. Talking to you felt as easy as thinking to myself, finally, out loud, to someone who cared enough to ask. Looking back, I think it was you, with your tireless tongue and 30 minute monologues over $6.25 burritos, guac on the side sitting neglected after the first bite, who started some sort of fire within me. You had nothing to hide so why should I? It came point where the week didn't feel complete if I didn't see you. It felt like I hadn't seen a piece of myself.
Because with you, things were different.
In the land of the heart where each step can mean a land mine or ecstacy, I had always been to afraid to take even a single step.
But you, you were my best guess.
You, with your button down sleeves rolled up to your elbows. You, who refused to sit down on the couch while I took a frozen pizza out of the oven in the kitchen because f*ck the patriarchy. You, who had lived only a few doors down from me my first year in this place but who hadn't come into my life until now. You who, as much as I knew it was annoying my roommate, I couldn't stop talking about, much less thinking.
You took my hand and you asked me to try.
And that night, when I kissed you at midnight on that yellow school bus as you were there, then gone, there, then gone as we passed beneath the orange street lamps, I wasn't sure. But for you, my best guess, I was willing to try.
And I did, for a couple months. I wanted you and you wanted me and I felt warm in the deep knowing that we had each other. There were nights that felt like snapshots from someone else's life. Nights of golden dresses and liquid courage that I wanted to last forever.
You were my best guess and we were doing more than fine.
But, like all students raised to be twice as good, I wanted to check my answer.
Did it make sense? Did you? Did we?
For someone who had always stood on solid ground, I didn't know what falling felt like. I started to ask myself, how deep does this go? And, should I have brought a life jacket? I started doggy paddling, trying to keep my head above my water, saying, I need you, but I only want to get my feet wet. But with that same persistence that drew me to you, you pulled me into the deep end so fast. As the waves of you rushed over me, I wanted to be ready. I did. But I wasn't.
And that fire? The one you built to warm me? It started to choke me. I suffocated on the smoke building within me every time I asked myself, "Are you sure about this?"
Of course I wasn't. And, because this was before I realized no one ever is, that scared me. So I pushed you away with reactionary force that for you, I can only imagine, hit you like the realization that this is it. This is life and we're in it. We're not rehearsing for anything, we never were.
But as you always did, you listened to me and took a step back. We were close again but always pacing that line between friends and more. There were some nights I wanted to cross it. There were some I did.
I didn't know what to do with that.
I loved having you in my life, I still do, but was it worth all this? You see, when I invest in people, there is no going back for me. My heart struggles to open but, once it does, it's stuck there. And the more force I try to use to close it, the more it refuses me, understanding that no, this doorway will not be the one to hear slamming echoing down hallways that were once stuffed with life.
So instead, I found myself in melancholic pain. Pain of being with you but not with you. Pain of knowing it was my choice, my fault, and there was nothing left to do but get over it.
And at night I found myself laying there. I lay there, on my bed, with my body curled into a question mark, asking myself Why? Why? Why after all this time? Why again?
And the funny thing is, I knew. I knew because even if I forget the details, I never forget how things felt. I remember how obvious it felt to take a two mile detour to walk you home rather than saying goodnight. I remember the look in your eye as I lay, naked, by your side and I kissed your sweaty neck over and over while you faded in, then out, in, then out under the white glow of my bedroom's string lights and I tried to forget those haunting words This is the last time. I remember, I remember. I remember that time you called me in the middle of the night because you said I was the only person who would understand. I remember being exhausted yet not even contemplating hanging up the phone because you were on the other end. I remember the smile on your face as you stood, shaky-kneed in that marshmallow jacket of yours as I took your hand, confident, sure, and skated in the twinkle of downtown lights.
And even outside of you, I remember the first time, instead of why, I asked why not.
But the funny thing is, every time I'm holding a map and think I know where I'm going, finally, yes finally... something gives out. I'm full speed ahead in a yellow sleek convertible until I wind up on the side of the road realizing that all this time the engine was from a 1976 Chevy Nova.
For once, I'd just like to get somewhere.
With you, I almost did.
But then it hit me: there's no need. There's no need for that destination because, in life, we're all just here for a long, slow ride. I realize that you, hey maybe you, can be there too. But this is my house. And I need to learn to be at home with myself before I can invite you in.
I just want to belong to myself again.
I've been told I use the word love too much. And that instead, I should just say what I mean. You told me this was supposed to be messy. And that in the end, if you didn't hurt me, then you didn't try.
I guess you tried pretty hard.
I am a beautiful, talented, proud feminist. And honestly, my beauty doesn't matter. It is my brilliance that becomes me. But that doesn't mean I don't get lonely sometimes. Or that I didn't want you. I am glad that we went our separate ways but not all the time.
And that's why, on that hot June afternoon, when it was all over and done and it was time to say our goodbyes, I looked at you all I could say was, "What a Year".
The poem starts here.
The poem starts; I was here, and so were you. But it starts then. It starts that day when the kid who talks too much wouldn't take the hint that despite the fact that I was amused by his blah-blah-blahing and never-ending stories, eventually he could be exhausting. It starts that day because when I saw you there, blue shirt, summer skin still pale, and glasses too big for your brutally honest eyes, I thought nothing. I thought, if anything, you would be yet another passerby-I felt as if I knew you for a week-single use- good intentioned acquaintance.
And you were, once. For a moment. But God were you persistent. It was like the words, words, words, that were always spilling from your tongue somehow dribbled down your chin, down, down your skinny arms, across your open palms, to your fingertips, where they sent their light to me each time my phone light up in my pocket with a new message from you.
And it buzzed. And it shook me. And I began to anticipate that little tickle in my pocket. I looked forward to it. It was like there was a little piece of you in each message just stopping by to say, "Hey. I thought of you and wanted to make you smile today."
You grew on me.
And suddenly there were coffee meet ups, and, when that didn't give us enough time, lunches, dinners three times a week. My friends started asking where I was getting dinner this time instead of with whom because they already knew it was you. Because of course it was. Because it was there, with you, that I realized that I hadn't had a gut-wrenching, heart-draining talk filled with truth, too much truth, in far too long. To you, I poured out parts of myself that I thought had already dried up a long ways back. Parts that, somehow, each time I used them to water our growing friendship, seemed to replenish tenfold. Remember, I was still just getting to know you. Back then, I never understood why I trusted you so quickly, so easily. The simplicity of your honesty was singular, alarming then right. Talking to you felt as easy as thinking to myself, finally, out loud, to someone who cared enough to ask. Looking back, I think it was you, with your tireless tongue and 30 minute monologues over $6.25 burritos, guac on the side sitting neglected after the first bite, who started some sort of fire within me. You had nothing to hide so why should I? It came point where the week didn't feel complete if I didn't see you. It felt like I hadn't seen a piece of myself.
Because with you, things were different.
In the land of the heart where each step can mean a land mine or ecstacy, I had always been to afraid to take even a single step.
But you, you were my best guess.
You, with your button down sleeves rolled up to your elbows. You, who refused to sit down on the couch while I took a frozen pizza out of the oven in the kitchen because f*ck the patriarchy. You, who had lived only a few doors down from me my first year in this place but who hadn't come into my life until now. You who, as much as I knew it was annoying my roommate, I couldn't stop talking about, much less thinking.
You took my hand and you asked me to try.
And that night, when I kissed you at midnight on that yellow school bus as you were there, then gone, there, then gone as we passed beneath the orange street lamps, I wasn't sure. But for you, my best guess, I was willing to try.
And I did, for a couple months. I wanted you and you wanted me and I felt warm in the deep knowing that we had each other. There were nights that felt like snapshots from someone else's life. Nights of golden dresses and liquid courage that I wanted to last forever.
You were my best guess and we were doing more than fine.
But, like all students raised to be twice as good, I wanted to check my answer.
Did it make sense? Did you? Did we?
For someone who had always stood on solid ground, I didn't know what falling felt like. I started to ask myself, how deep does this go? And, should I have brought a life jacket? I started doggy paddling, trying to keep my head above my water, saying, I need you, but I only want to get my feet wet. But with that same persistence that drew me to you, you pulled me into the deep end so fast. As the waves of you rushed over me, I wanted to be ready. I did. But I wasn't.
And that fire? The one you built to warm me? It started to choke me. I suffocated on the smoke building within me every time I asked myself, "Are you sure about this?"
Of course I wasn't. And, because this was before I realized no one ever is, that scared me. So I pushed you away with reactionary force that for you, I can only imagine, hit you like the realization that this is it. This is life and we're in it. We're not rehearsing for anything, we never were.
But as you always did, you listened to me and took a step back. We were close again but always pacing that line between friends and more. There were some nights I wanted to cross it. There were some I did.
I didn't know what to do with that.
I loved having you in my life, I still do, but was it worth all this? You see, when I invest in people, there is no going back for me. My heart struggles to open but, once it does, it's stuck there. And the more force I try to use to close it, the more it refuses me, understanding that no, this doorway will not be the one to hear slamming echoing down hallways that were once stuffed with life.
So instead, I found myself in melancholic pain. Pain of being with you but not with you. Pain of knowing it was my choice, my fault, and there was nothing left to do but get over it.
And at night I found myself laying there. I lay there, on my bed, with my body curled into a question mark, asking myself Why? Why? Why after all this time? Why again?
And the funny thing is, I knew. I knew because even if I forget the details, I never forget how things felt. I remember how obvious it felt to take a two mile detour to walk you home rather than saying goodnight. I remember the look in your eye as I lay, naked, by your side and I kissed your sweaty neck over and over while you faded in, then out, in, then out under the white glow of my bedroom's string lights and I tried to forget those haunting words This is the last time. I remember, I remember. I remember that time you called me in the middle of the night because you said I was the only person who would understand. I remember being exhausted yet not even contemplating hanging up the phone because you were on the other end. I remember the smile on your face as you stood, shaky-kneed in that marshmallow jacket of yours as I took your hand, confident, sure, and skated in the twinkle of downtown lights.
And even outside of you, I remember the first time, instead of why, I asked why not.
But the funny thing is, every time I'm holding a map and think I know where I'm going, finally, yes finally... something gives out. I'm full speed ahead in a yellow sleek convertible until I wind up on the side of the road realizing that all this time the engine was from a 1976 Chevy Nova.
For once, I'd just like to get somewhere.
With you, I almost did.
But then it hit me: there's no need. There's no need for that destination because, in life, we're all just here for a long, slow ride. I realize that you, hey maybe you, can be there too. But this is my house. And I need to learn to be at home with myself before I can invite you in.
I just want to belong to myself again.
I've been told I use the word love too much. And that instead, I should just say what I mean. You told me this was supposed to be messy. And that in the end, if you didn't hurt me, then you didn't try.
I guess you tried pretty hard.
I am a beautiful, talented, proud feminist. And honestly, my beauty doesn't matter. It is my brilliance that becomes me. But that doesn't mean I don't get lonely sometimes. Or that I didn't want you. I am glad that we went our separate ways but not all the time.
And that's why, on that hot June afternoon, when it was all over and done and it was time to say our goodbyes, I looked at you all I could say was, "What a Year".
Friday, August 7, 2015
Tomatoes
People always ask me: “How do you memorize all of that?”
And the truth is; the first girl I ever kissed tasted like tomatoes. And I know this, because the second girl I ever kissed tasted like pepper. It wasn’t unpleasant. It’s just that I was expecting tomatoes.
When I was a kid I was fascinated by space, and I learnt that time slows near a black hole. Inside a black hole time stops altogether. Whether or not this theory will ever be proved, I’m moved to believe this would be the perfect place to love someone.
In grade 4, my gym teacher gave me the nickname half-ton. It was a name that stuck. I remember it, because it was the first time I ever told someone: “Go fuck yourself!” and meant it. He quit calling me the name after he called my house trying to get me in trouble for what I’d said. To which my grandmother replied: “Mr. Shithead, I told him to say it.”
I remember my grandfather’s blue tool kit where he hid a secret stash of raisins. I recall thinking: “My granddad has the worst taste in candy.” But he did teach me how to tie a tie. My first opportunity to apply this knowledge was my first date; a seventh grade classmate, who showed up wearing acid washed jeans and a Def Leppard t-shirt. I wore a suit and tie. When she asked why I was all dressed up, I told her: “My other clothes smell funny.” I am not saying it ended badly, but she wound up leaving me for a boy who could make farting noises with his arm-pit. I’m forced to admit - he was pretty cool.
My fourth grade teacher had a rule about speaking out of turn. Failure to learn and practise this lesson would result in having to sit outside. I know this, because I tried it once. When she finally came out to check on me, she asked: “What was so important, that it couldn’t wait?” Knowing that it’s rude to point, but needing to illustrate my position, I gestured to her chest and said: “Your boob is hanging out.” She quickly covered up and corrected me: “Breast.” She was a good teacher.
When I was twelve, I was given an academic diagnostics test. Later the instructor informed me I had an aptitude for history. He looked puzzled when I replied: “Yeah, but that was yesterday. Today I’m more interested in tomorrow.” I remember it, because the next day I asked a girl if I could borrow a pen. When I offered it back she said: “You should write me a letter with it first.” So I did. I wrote her a note, which the teacher then intercepted and read to the class. It was something that we’d learnt in science that day, about the way gravity affects mass and weight in relation to how quickly something will fall.
Example: A crumpled ball of paper will fall at the same speed as a boulder of granite. It doesn’t matter how much something weighs. It stays the same until you consider surface area and resistance, at which point the persistence of gravity loses force.
Example: Crumple a piece of paper into a ball. It will fall faster than a loose sheet. They are both composed of the same mass and weight, so you’d think that the rate of velocity measured with the force of gravity would cause each to fall at the same speed. But that’s when you need to consider that the greater surface area of the loose sheet adds resistance. So, the crumpled ball will fall quickly, but the loose sheet will slowly float.
I wrote a note explaining, that when two people are falling for each other, they do so at the same speed. There’s no need to factor in the physics explanations or something we can make no use of. Einstein said: “Gravity won’t be held responsible for people falling in love.” I wrote her a note, telling her: “If I fall in love with you, no one will ever be able to explain it. And I think that’s beautiful.” Despite the class laughing, she did as well, Which is how I can tell you that I then knew and now still know. She tasted like tomatoes.
I don’t remember the way every song goes. I can’t recall every person I’ve met. I get names mixed up all the time. I’m terrible with birthdays. But I remember all the ways people have affected me. How our stories became memories. And if you were brazen enough then you’re in there somewhere. Maybe it was a truth or dare kiss, or a simple act of kindness. One that reminded me to remember this moment and mark it as a memory , so we could both have it to look back on. From this life, I’ve drawn conclusions so big they can’t fit into the tiny comic book boxes, because I don’t wanna risk losing the details just so I can make the story fit. It’s not a trick.
I remember how things felt, which in turn makes me remember how things happened. Like my first attempt at skateboarding, where I received a down to the bone skinned knee. I remember a tree that looked like a man, with huge arms trying to hold up the sky. I used to try to climb it to the very top, until one day I did and couldn’t get down. I remember the man with the brown car who tried to convince me he was sent to pick me up by my mom. Number 1, I lived with my grandparents. Number 2, he didn’t know the safety word.
I recall when it finally occurred to me; I’m pretty fantastic. It’s not magic. I remember because I make comparisons. Not in terms of better or worse, just different. And not all of these memories are great, but they’re mine. Which lends weight to the belief that none of our lives are put together on an assembly line. We’re not pre-packaged with memories or programmed with stories. We have to make our own. And they all come “batteries not included”.
Amid the endless opportunities we have daily. Seldom do we take the time necessary to record, rewind and press play. In our own way, we are all ghetto blasters at top volume. We consume silence with noise, speakers pounding out our heartbeats as we write refund receipts for the broken eardrums of people who could hear us live. We give up our self’s time. Precious, because it’s quality is limited only by your ability to live within it. Put yourself into every second of every minute, and you will have a life worth remembering.
Just because we don’t have forever, doesn’t mean we have to live our lives moving towards the end as if on a conveyer belt. I felt nothing short of astonished when people asked me: “How do you memorize all that?” The fact of the matter is, it’s not a trick. There is no thick curtain you need to pull away. No little old man making it all work from behind a locked door. You yourself probably remember before when I told you that: near a black hole, time slows.
Inside a black hole is where I wanted to grow tomatoes.
- Shane Koyczan
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
7/13/15
I should be asleep right now. It's not quite midnight but I've been getting up before 6 every morning this summer. I know this, but something's keeping me up tonight.
There's a girl who goes to NU with me, Kalina, who started this movement last year entitled Big Talk. Something sparked the movement in my mind tonight and I revisited the videos from the past year. Each video features a new question:
1. What do you want to do before you die?
2. What was your first time like?
3. What happened to your childhood dream?
I watched all of them but that first one particularly stood out to me today. A the video progressed and people told their stories, she asked a woman, "If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what would you do today?"
What would I do today?
I've been thinking about it, and so much would change. My first thought was to call everyone important to me. Without hesitating, that was the first thought to come to mind. After that, I thought of love. I've loved people before but I've never been in love. I've never fallen or, if I were beginning to, I caught myself. For fear, I think, but of what, I'm not sure. So I thought of going out somewhere and doing something that was me, entirely me, meeting someone and making a whirlwind day out of it. A before sunrise sort of incident.
As for the event that would be "entirely me", that was a less clear picture. I imagined just going for a long walk. I imagined finding a park somewhere, talking to strangers, volunteering, sitting down and writing out everything I ever wanted to say.
What was perhaps the most interesting to me was what didn't come immediately to mind. I didn't think of buying a plane ticket anywhere. Not home, not to visit someone special, not to see one more part of the world. I didn't imagine forgiving anyone because I don't hold any grudges. I didn't imagine jumping out of a plane or getting a tattoo or doing one more thing people often turn to to feel "more alive". I just wanted to spend a day by me, doing me, for me. A day built on peace of mind.
I took a class at work this morning entitled Compassionate Communication. In it, we discussed what our deepest needs are as workers and people in general as well as what the core underlying emotions are behind them. The theme that kept coming back for me was that of understanding and purpose. According to the exercises we performed, I value having what I do matter in the world. I need to have people, at least one person, who understands me and who I understand. I need that person to stand by me while I tackle taking on the world.
What's interesting to me is that this has come up before. On the first day of Abani's fiction class, he dissected us as people based off of 3 brief, off handed statements. I was honestly surprised when he said I was driven by a core need to make a difference in the world. Without that observation, I would have thought my motivation was something more interpersonally driven-- caring for people, making them feel heard, that kind of thing. And while I believe that is still true, I no longer believe that is necessarily my core drive. To me, it's tiring to constantly work to make small positive changes in the world around you and never see any real progress. I don't think I could do that for the rest of my mind.
Today, I'm young and foolish enough to believe that I can be someone to make real progress. That there's something inside me that's going to change the world. Not all of it, that needs help. But enough of it that I can step back and see it clearly.
So when that question of what I want to do before I die came up, these thoughts began to run. And one of shortest yet scariest answers I found for myself? Not this. I wouldn't be doing what I am today.
I'm a student. I'm aware or responsibility and debt and setting the pathway for future success. But if I'm also going to stick with my truth, I'm not a realist. I'm an idealist who believes in diving into things because why not. This life, this existence that we all spend so much time preparing for, is one act. I feel like I keep on doing dress rehearsals for a show that's been running for years. So when I think about courses of study, summer internships, and post-graduate plans, rather than fear the unknown that is to come as most others my age do, I fear the realness of it all-- the stability. I fear that I'm living my life this way not because I want to but because I "should". And that terrifies me more than anything.
There's a girl who goes to NU with me, Kalina, who started this movement last year entitled Big Talk. Something sparked the movement in my mind tonight and I revisited the videos from the past year. Each video features a new question:
1. What do you want to do before you die?
2. What was your first time like?
3. What happened to your childhood dream?
I watched all of them but that first one particularly stood out to me today. A the video progressed and people told their stories, she asked a woman, "If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what would you do today?"
What would I do today?
I've been thinking about it, and so much would change. My first thought was to call everyone important to me. Without hesitating, that was the first thought to come to mind. After that, I thought of love. I've loved people before but I've never been in love. I've never fallen or, if I were beginning to, I caught myself. For fear, I think, but of what, I'm not sure. So I thought of going out somewhere and doing something that was me, entirely me, meeting someone and making a whirlwind day out of it. A before sunrise sort of incident.
As for the event that would be "entirely me", that was a less clear picture. I imagined just going for a long walk. I imagined finding a park somewhere, talking to strangers, volunteering, sitting down and writing out everything I ever wanted to say.
What was perhaps the most interesting to me was what didn't come immediately to mind. I didn't think of buying a plane ticket anywhere. Not home, not to visit someone special, not to see one more part of the world. I didn't imagine forgiving anyone because I don't hold any grudges. I didn't imagine jumping out of a plane or getting a tattoo or doing one more thing people often turn to to feel "more alive". I just wanted to spend a day by me, doing me, for me. A day built on peace of mind.
I took a class at work this morning entitled Compassionate Communication. In it, we discussed what our deepest needs are as workers and people in general as well as what the core underlying emotions are behind them. The theme that kept coming back for me was that of understanding and purpose. According to the exercises we performed, I value having what I do matter in the world. I need to have people, at least one person, who understands me and who I understand. I need that person to stand by me while I tackle taking on the world.
What's interesting to me is that this has come up before. On the first day of Abani's fiction class, he dissected us as people based off of 3 brief, off handed statements. I was honestly surprised when he said I was driven by a core need to make a difference in the world. Without that observation, I would have thought my motivation was something more interpersonally driven-- caring for people, making them feel heard, that kind of thing. And while I believe that is still true, I no longer believe that is necessarily my core drive. To me, it's tiring to constantly work to make small positive changes in the world around you and never see any real progress. I don't think I could do that for the rest of my mind.
Today, I'm young and foolish enough to believe that I can be someone to make real progress. That there's something inside me that's going to change the world. Not all of it, that needs help. But enough of it that I can step back and see it clearly.
So when that question of what I want to do before I die came up, these thoughts began to run. And one of shortest yet scariest answers I found for myself? Not this. I wouldn't be doing what I am today.
I'm a student. I'm aware or responsibility and debt and setting the pathway for future success. But if I'm also going to stick with my truth, I'm not a realist. I'm an idealist who believes in diving into things because why not. This life, this existence that we all spend so much time preparing for, is one act. I feel like I keep on doing dress rehearsals for a show that's been running for years. So when I think about courses of study, summer internships, and post-graduate plans, rather than fear the unknown that is to come as most others my age do, I fear the realness of it all-- the stability. I fear that I'm living my life this way not because I want to but because I "should". And that terrifies me more than anything.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Pillow Fights & Pool Parties
I miss sober parties with good friends just being hyper and ridiculous. Or any other hangout that doesn't involve drinking-- hiking, canoeing, walks on the shore, exploring new cities, karaoke, camping, all of the above, any of the above.
Partying is fun, sure, and honestly I usually don't drink too much if I choose to. But I do still wish it were more common to do other stuff too. Considering having a dry summer.
Partying is fun, sure, and honestly I usually don't drink too much if I choose to. But I do still wish it were more common to do other stuff too. Considering having a dry summer.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Questions and Hip Hop
At open mic night on Friday, one of the performers was a hip hop artist who introduced us to a new style of music. Rather than rap a story, he wrapped questions. He rapped about the questions that tug at him and asked us all to join in until the entire room was yelling out questions that we all wonder and are still trying to find the answer to. We didn't talk about answers at all actually but the premise was more about igniting this overwhelming feeling of wonder and sharing in that experience in a room mostly full of strangers.
In honor of that, I wanted to start my own list of questions and add to it as more cross my mind and my heart. Here's the start:
Why do I dance so small?
What am I afraid of?
Where do I end and you begin?
Why were there so many unspoken rules on the 4th grade playground?
Why do I hesitate?
What is the sound of heartbreak?
Can the spirit float on joy?
When does it begin to fall apart?
Is duct tape enough to fix it?
Why do geese travel so tightly together?
In honor of that, I wanted to start my own list of questions and add to it as more cross my mind and my heart. Here's the start:
Why do I dance so small?
What am I afraid of?
Where do I end and you begin?
Why were there so many unspoken rules on the 4th grade playground?
Why do I hesitate?
What is the sound of heartbreak?
Can the spirit float on joy?
When does it begin to fall apart?
Is duct tape enough to fix it?
Why do geese travel so tightly together?
About Friendships and Loss Thereof
I read something the other day. There's this thing I do where I open a bunch of tabs on my computer of articles whose titles caught my attention that I promise myself I'll read later. Then, one free afternoon, I'll go through and read all of them, filing my mind with information and wisdom my past self believed might come in handy.
One of the ones I read was about the heartbreak of fading friendships. Originally, I clicked on it because one of my friends, the first I made here, is one of those fades. If not for the fact that we have so much history and in a perfect world, I'd like for our friendship to rekindle, I wouldn't hesitate to say we're not friends anymore. But there is, and I do still sometimes hope for better. So I read things like this to help myself know that I'm not alone in this.
The article had a lot to say about why ending friendships are exponentially harder to go through than ending relationships. When a relationship ends, there's things people tell you-- about how the world is and how you can get over it. You're told that there are plenty other fish in the sea, you deserve better and that he or she isn't worth your time anyway. You're told to get back out there, with your friends supporting you the entire way. But that last part is the clincher, isn't it? Your friends being there. There to make you laugh, hold you when it's all too much, distract you by dancing the night away, sitting there to listen when you just want to talk. So what do you do if it's your friend who is the one that's lost. Who do you turn to? It's like your whole world is falling apart and the only person who would understand is the person who's loss is causing it. You give your whole, true self to it and having someone you've been so vulnerable with fall away breaks you. I can't even place exactly what went wrong.
There was a point this year where everything was going right. People would check in about how I'm doing and I would gush about all of the warmth that I felt. I loved and was loved in return, I spent weeknights having great conversations with people who wanted to be there with me just as much as I wanted to be there with them, I had plans, I was meeting people and making new connections at a time when I thought I was done making friends here. Things were just so much more than good.
Now, that's not true. I want it to be but it's not. Now, I seek out those environments that once felt so warm and right and feel cold and isolated. I reach out to the people who made me feel understood and loved and my heart breaks just making eye contact with them. If any part of my skin touches there, I feel myself tense. I walk around wanting to tell them everything, wanting to talk to them about nothing, but in practice, I now shut down grieving for the connection that once held me together.
I know this all will pass. This is how life works, isn't it? In cycles. In peaks and troughs then back again. And this is all not to say I'm deeply depressed or anything like that. I'm still happy a lot of the time. Friday was one of those days. I walked around campus spinning and smiling because I felt so light. Open mic night, milk tea with Michelle, some time spent alone for relaxation and reflection, listening to a panel of professionals about how to have a career that has an impact, finishing my last lab of all time, exploring Shakespeare Garden.. so much went well that day, I was almost euphoric. It's just in the day that follows when you want to share your happiness and struggle to find people to do that with that it hits you.
That article had an idea that stuck with me. That you have the exact people in you need in your life exactly when you need them. As much as I would like that to be true, I'm still trying to prove it to myself.
One of the ones I read was about the heartbreak of fading friendships. Originally, I clicked on it because one of my friends, the first I made here, is one of those fades. If not for the fact that we have so much history and in a perfect world, I'd like for our friendship to rekindle, I wouldn't hesitate to say we're not friends anymore. But there is, and I do still sometimes hope for better. So I read things like this to help myself know that I'm not alone in this.
The article had a lot to say about why ending friendships are exponentially harder to go through than ending relationships. When a relationship ends, there's things people tell you-- about how the world is and how you can get over it. You're told that there are plenty other fish in the sea, you deserve better and that he or she isn't worth your time anyway. You're told to get back out there, with your friends supporting you the entire way. But that last part is the clincher, isn't it? Your friends being there. There to make you laugh, hold you when it's all too much, distract you by dancing the night away, sitting there to listen when you just want to talk. So what do you do if it's your friend who is the one that's lost. Who do you turn to? It's like your whole world is falling apart and the only person who would understand is the person who's loss is causing it. You give your whole, true self to it and having someone you've been so vulnerable with fall away breaks you. I can't even place exactly what went wrong.
There was a point this year where everything was going right. People would check in about how I'm doing and I would gush about all of the warmth that I felt. I loved and was loved in return, I spent weeknights having great conversations with people who wanted to be there with me just as much as I wanted to be there with them, I had plans, I was meeting people and making new connections at a time when I thought I was done making friends here. Things were just so much more than good.
Now, that's not true. I want it to be but it's not. Now, I seek out those environments that once felt so warm and right and feel cold and isolated. I reach out to the people who made me feel understood and loved and my heart breaks just making eye contact with them. If any part of my skin touches there, I feel myself tense. I walk around wanting to tell them everything, wanting to talk to them about nothing, but in practice, I now shut down grieving for the connection that once held me together.
I know this all will pass. This is how life works, isn't it? In cycles. In peaks and troughs then back again. And this is all not to say I'm deeply depressed or anything like that. I'm still happy a lot of the time. Friday was one of those days. I walked around campus spinning and smiling because I felt so light. Open mic night, milk tea with Michelle, some time spent alone for relaxation and reflection, listening to a panel of professionals about how to have a career that has an impact, finishing my last lab of all time, exploring Shakespeare Garden.. so much went well that day, I was almost euphoric. It's just in the day that follows when you want to share your happiness and struggle to find people to do that with that it hits you.
That article had an idea that stuck with me. That you have the exact people in you need in your life exactly when you need them. As much as I would like that to be true, I'm still trying to prove it to myself.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
"Thanks for taking care of me :) Also I remember feeling very conflicted about you toward the end of the night, so I'm not sure if that translated to me being angsty or anything. But just know that everything is totally fine and dandy haha. You're the greatest!"
"Heh don't worry I was pretty conflicted too. Just trying really hard not to do anything I'd regret today/ take advantage of you. But I think at least for the most part good choices were made! Angsty how? I'd just prefer if you didn't tell me you're fine when you're not. For feeling sick or otherwise"
"That's definitely fair."
"Heh don't worry I was pretty conflicted too. Just trying really hard not to do anything I'd regret today/ take advantage of you. But I think at least for the most part good choices were made! Angsty how? I'd just prefer if you didn't tell me you're fine when you're not. For feeling sick or otherwise"
"That's definitely fair."
"So I wrote you something. And imma send it to you. And hopefully the sap doesn't make you sick. But I mean all of it. So yeah. Deal. (sent via email because it made the most sense)"
"I'm crying. I'm sitting by myself at the bar while she's in the bathroom and I'm crying. I love you so so much. You made this the best birthday I ever had. I hope I can do the same for yours. Thank you so frigging much, you are the light of my life and I'm just so absurdly lucky to have you. I wish I has the words to justify how important you are to me... But I don't. Ugh"
"You make that clear every time we hang out so no worries :)"
"I hope you know you're the reason why my bday was so incredible"
" :) :)"
"I'm so serious. I've never had a friend like you. You're my inspiration and I feel so lucky"
"It's things like this. Killin' me. Glad I could help make today special for you"
"You made it the specialist. Love you. I'm drunk but I can't wait to talk to you sober."
"I'm crying. I'm sitting by myself at the bar while she's in the bathroom and I'm crying. I love you so so much. You made this the best birthday I ever had. I hope I can do the same for yours. Thank you so frigging much, you are the light of my life and I'm just so absurdly lucky to have you. I wish I has the words to justify how important you are to me... But I don't. Ugh"
"You make that clear every time we hang out so no worries :)"
"I hope you know you're the reason why my bday was so incredible"
" :) :)"
"I'm so serious. I've never had a friend like you. You're my inspiration and I feel so lucky"
"It's things like this. Killin' me. Glad I could help make today special for you"
"You made it the specialist. Love you. I'm drunk but I can't wait to talk to you sober."
"Do you want me to not text you for a while? Obviously I'm sad about it but I wanna respect your wishes. Just let me know what I can do. I'm scared of losing you, but if you let me know what you need from me, I can do it."
"I think for the first time in a long time, I don't know what I want at all. And I know that's not fair or helpful and I don't like the feeling of not knowing or constantly putting my stress on you but that's kinda just where I'm at. But thanks for telling me that. You're being wonderful as usual . And usually I would say I'll get back to you at least about the texting thing after I figure it out but I'm not sure I'm going to. I really wish I could say. But I'm scared of losing you too--- because of so many reasons I hope you already know. So since that feeling's on both sides, this should work, right? I hope. I really, really hope so. I just honestly don't know and I hope this mess doesn't last too long."
"Yeah, I understand. Am I allowed to text you? Just like moving forward."
"Yeah, go ahead."
"I think for the first time in a long time, I don't know what I want at all. And I know that's not fair or helpful and I don't like the feeling of not knowing or constantly putting my stress on you but that's kinda just where I'm at. But thanks for telling me that. You're being wonderful as usual . And usually I would say I'll get back to you at least about the texting thing after I figure it out but I'm not sure I'm going to. I really wish I could say. But I'm scared of losing you too--- because of so many reasons I hope you already know. So since that feeling's on both sides, this should work, right? I hope. I really, really hope so. I just honestly don't know and I hope this mess doesn't last too long."
"Yeah, I understand. Am I allowed to text you? Just like moving forward."
"Yeah, go ahead."
[break in the series for a second]
To discuss the term "best friend". I don't like it very much. Not only is it a lot of pressure but it's also exclusive to other people in your life that you value in different ways. There are people in my life who I feel different things for at different times-- people who I love in different ways but are still meaningful to me.
Really, I think the only time people use the term 'best friend' is when they're trying to justify a relationship they have either to themselves or to someone else. But you only use that term when you're in the middle of some sort of stress. Either your best friend isn't acting like the best friend you have when you don't feel the need to use that term or you yourself are doing something off to feel the
need to justify yourself.
I believe in actions. I believe in showing people how much you care and in what way. Terms aside, that's what matters.
Really, I think the only time people use the term 'best friend' is when they're trying to justify a relationship they have either to themselves or to someone else. But you only use that term when you're in the middle of some sort of stress. Either your best friend isn't acting like the best friend you have when you don't feel the need to use that term or you yourself are doing something off to feel the
need to justify yourself.
I believe in actions. I believe in showing people how much you care and in what way. Terms aside, that's what matters.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
"You ok? Like with everything"
"Most days yeah, some days no. But gotta deal with it, you know?"
"I think you can put it on the line. You don't have to wait for him."
"87% of the time, he's just my best friend."
"What's the other 13?"
"He's charming, what can I say? And a sincerely good person."
"Is 13 always drunk?"
"10/13."
"I think that speaks."
"Yeah. that's why I'm more trying to keep up the best friendship-ness. Because drunk isn't fair to either of us."
"Most days yeah, some days no. But gotta deal with it, you know?"
"I think you can put it on the line. You don't have to wait for him."
"87% of the time, he's just my best friend."
"What's the other 13?"
"He's charming, what can I say? And a sincerely good person."
"Is 13 always drunk?"
"10/13."
"I think that speaks."
"Yeah. that's why I'm more trying to keep up the best friendship-ness. Because drunk isn't fair to either of us."
New Millennial Piece
Anyone who knows me knows that I hate texting. I hate Facebook messaging, too, and any other thing where I can't directly hear or see the person I'm communicating with. Well, hate is a strong word. Other interactions are just strongly preferred. Instead, I prefer to use texts simply to make plans for when I can see someone in person or, if that's not possible, call. I think I just like hearing the smile and intention in people's voices that emoticons and overt use of exclamation points just can't convey.
When people first learn this information about me, they generally laugh. What kind of millennial am I that I don't like texting? So then it's rare for me to have a text conversation that means something. This isn't the case for a lot of people. Recently, I read a piece, Airing Your Dirty Laundry, from SLANT NU that made me rethink the value of text messages. Maybe it's not a full heart-to-heart. Maybe it's just enough. What you needed in that moment.
So for this blog, I wanted to highlight a couple of the conversations that I've had via texting that I keep coming back to. The ones that stick with me. I won't say when I had them or who they're from but, if you recognize yourself in them, know it mattered to me. A lot of small things do. And I'm trying to compile them when I'm still the person who they're relevant to.
Quote of the Week as I approach the end of my junior year:
"You get a strange feeling when you leave a place, like you'll not only miss the people you love, but you'll miss the person you are at this time and place because you'll never be this way again."
When people first learn this information about me, they generally laugh. What kind of millennial am I that I don't like texting? So then it's rare for me to have a text conversation that means something. This isn't the case for a lot of people. Recently, I read a piece, Airing Your Dirty Laundry, from SLANT NU that made me rethink the value of text messages. Maybe it's not a full heart-to-heart. Maybe it's just enough. What you needed in that moment.
So for this blog, I wanted to highlight a couple of the conversations that I've had via texting that I keep coming back to. The ones that stick with me. I won't say when I had them or who they're from but, if you recognize yourself in them, know it mattered to me. A lot of small things do. And I'm trying to compile them when I'm still the person who they're relevant to.
Quote of the Week as I approach the end of my junior year:
"You get a strange feeling when you leave a place, like you'll not only miss the people you love, but you'll miss the person you are at this time and place because you'll never be this way again."
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Gender Imbalances in Nigerian Culture
Not exactly the life I lead thank goodness but this is something I see too much in my family's culture. It gets stronger when people come to visit. Such sentiment is archaic and that fact needs to be realized by more people.
Thursday, May 7, 2015
Moving backward
I thought I'd walk away from college with a sense of fullness. I thought I would form a family of people who I know love me and will continue to love me no matter what comes our way. I thought I would stand taller, walk with confidence, speak in such a way where I am heard and look back and say, "This is it. This is what I wanted."
We're young enough to say there's always time. Even still, I can't shake the feeling that the window closes so quickly. Yes, I'll keep making friends. I've never been worried about that. But I am worried about maintaining them. I'm worried about having people who I have deep, history-filled bonds with who are the type of people who are unquestionably in my life and I in theirs. I want people who I couldn't get rid of I tried. After graduation, even if it's not 100% true, I feel like the chances for those types of relationships drop exponentially. Maybe it's because I started filling out my petition to graduate today but suddenly this issue I've been struggling with for a while feels much more urgent.
In the past year, I've had so many ups and downs. But honestly, I feel as though the downs are enough to make me, at least right now, feel as though I've regressed. At the beginning of my sophomore year here, I felt I was finally the person I wanted to be. I don't feel that way so much anymore.
There have been times when I've really connected people. When I feel a happiness that takes me over and, at least in that time, I feel right. I take a mental picture of times like those so that I can return to them
But there have also been an overwhelming amount of times, especially recently, where I feel like I'm somehow still proving myself. I'm still trying to make people like me and I still change myself and my approach to them to make it work. And it doesn't always work. Often, that's true. Jokes fall flat. Comments are ignored. Questions attempting to join a conversation are never addressed. People who I want to be close to just don't seem inclined enough to want my company as well. I feel that my speaking inabilities which cause me to repeat things three or four times make people stop caring about what I have to say. And as someone who sees others as such an ingrained part of myself, each instance of that turns me back in on myself, making it even harder the next time. Those times have been building on each other recently.
I think a big part of it is that I really need people right now. Earlier this year, I had at least one person who I knew was my home base but that's gone now. It's not gone forever, I hope. I really, truly hope not. But it is healing and that takes time. It's rare that I've been in a situation where there were only a handful of people who I feel entirely invested in and I know they feel the same. But the issue comes in the fact that these people have other friends. We're not one group so people have others to hang out with and all too often, I'm left not knowing who to call and just being on my own. I don't know who my people here, my true-blue, unshakable people, are anymore. I could maybe name a couple depending on the say but it's not as strong as I would like it to be. As I need it to be. I want someone to say "I choose you. I want you in my life and I want to show you that."
As much as I'd like to be, I'm not good on my own. I'm just not.
I think I'm tied to that feeling of unconditional love. Of having someone I can give endlessly to and pour my heart out to or just be shameless and silly and know that will only draw us closer. That kind of love fills you with energy and no matter what life throws you, there's someone right beside you. No matter what, you say, at least we have each other. That kind of friendship is rare and special. I know that much. But I think I need it more than I thought I did. I want to give myself over entirely to someone and have them be here in Evanston to do the same with me. When you love someone like that, it comes back to you.
There are people who are still there, I know there are. That's not what I'm saying.
What I'm saying is that the confidence that I felt that summer after the Czech Republic and those summers after spending all day everyday with the Dream Team has dissipated. I have my people out there. I know I can call them up after a year or call them everyday and our relationship is rooted enough that we'll still be in that state of comfort where we've always been.
Just some thoughts.
We're young enough to say there's always time. Even still, I can't shake the feeling that the window closes so quickly. Yes, I'll keep making friends. I've never been worried about that. But I am worried about maintaining them. I'm worried about having people who I have deep, history-filled bonds with who are the type of people who are unquestionably in my life and I in theirs. I want people who I couldn't get rid of I tried. After graduation, even if it's not 100% true, I feel like the chances for those types of relationships drop exponentially. Maybe it's because I started filling out my petition to graduate today but suddenly this issue I've been struggling with for a while feels much more urgent.
In the past year, I've had so many ups and downs. But honestly, I feel as though the downs are enough to make me, at least right now, feel as though I've regressed. At the beginning of my sophomore year here, I felt I was finally the person I wanted to be. I don't feel that way so much anymore.
There have been times when I've really connected people. When I feel a happiness that takes me over and, at least in that time, I feel right. I take a mental picture of times like those so that I can return to them
But there have also been an overwhelming amount of times, especially recently, where I feel like I'm somehow still proving myself. I'm still trying to make people like me and I still change myself and my approach to them to make it work. And it doesn't always work. Often, that's true. Jokes fall flat. Comments are ignored. Questions attempting to join a conversation are never addressed. People who I want to be close to just don't seem inclined enough to want my company as well. I feel that my speaking inabilities which cause me to repeat things three or four times make people stop caring about what I have to say. And as someone who sees others as such an ingrained part of myself, each instance of that turns me back in on myself, making it even harder the next time. Those times have been building on each other recently.
I think a big part of it is that I really need people right now. Earlier this year, I had at least one person who I knew was my home base but that's gone now. It's not gone forever, I hope. I really, truly hope not. But it is healing and that takes time. It's rare that I've been in a situation where there were only a handful of people who I feel entirely invested in and I know they feel the same. But the issue comes in the fact that these people have other friends. We're not one group so people have others to hang out with and all too often, I'm left not knowing who to call and just being on my own. I don't know who my people here, my true-blue, unshakable people, are anymore. I could maybe name a couple depending on the say but it's not as strong as I would like it to be. As I need it to be. I want someone to say "I choose you. I want you in my life and I want to show you that."
As much as I'd like to be, I'm not good on my own. I'm just not.
I think I'm tied to that feeling of unconditional love. Of having someone I can give endlessly to and pour my heart out to or just be shameless and silly and know that will only draw us closer. That kind of love fills you with energy and no matter what life throws you, there's someone right beside you. No matter what, you say, at least we have each other. That kind of friendship is rare and special. I know that much. But I think I need it more than I thought I did. I want to give myself over entirely to someone and have them be here in Evanston to do the same with me. When you love someone like that, it comes back to you.
There are people who are still there, I know there are. That's not what I'm saying.
What I'm saying is that the confidence that I felt that summer after the Czech Republic and those summers after spending all day everyday with the Dream Team has dissipated. I have my people out there. I know I can call them up after a year or call them everyday and our relationship is rooted enough that we'll still be in that state of comfort where we've always been.
Just some thoughts.
Monday, April 13, 2015
Back again
[this is more detailed than some readers may be used to seeing on this blog but this is for me, and I needed to write about it. if you don't want to know about my private life, don't keep reading.]
I'm coming to learn that I have very strong, yet weakly upheld inhibitions. I set such constrained boundaries for myself that at the first glass of wine, come to speak of the third, I have run with the chance to cross them.
I think I like how quickly my boundaries come down but I don't think I like how tall and strict they are to begin with.
Remember that boy I used to blog about? He's baaaaack.
Well he never really left. In fact, he's become so close recently that I consider him one of my best friends of al time. I mean back in terms of the super distracting, can't stop thinking of the night way.
Thursday was his birthday. As I said he's one of my best friends so I found it natural to come early and help him set up. That part was simple: buy some snacks, drinks, cups. Set up a playlist. Relax and wait for the party to arrive.
I lost my glasses on an Uber to start the night off but eventually got them back and after a couple self-pity glasses of wine. And then the time came for people to arrive and I, light weight that I am, was already rather tipsy. I spent most of the night talking to friends, old and new, and dancing whenever a good song came on. Andrew, Kevin's pledge son, definitely won the best conversation award. He took Kevin and I aside and made us cry by telling us how much he appreciates the work we put in to Board and WW. It was SO nice to hear, especially after the past week of putting in 10+ hours to try to make this first spring training meeting a success.
But then the night progressed.
The night progressed and I had another glass of wine, making it my third. Most people would say that's nothing, but for me, that's the point when those carefully built walls come crashing down.
I know it was me. I know I came onto him. I found him in the kitchen and cozied up. He didn't withdraw. In fact he encouraged me, stroked my waist as I pulled closer. But I was the definitely the one to push forward. I was the one who stayed, kissed his neck, and whispered that I wanted to be alone with him. I told him I didn't want to be responsible for once.
I led him back to Summer's room and we were their for a while until people came banging on the door twice, trying to get their coats/ see what what happening with the birthday boy. The entire time, he was sure to state that we both knew this was a bad idea. That we broke it off the first time because we're meant to be best friends. Those were his words, but physically, he didn't stop me. I told him I wouldn't regret it and that, for once, I wanted to do what I wanted in the present rather than thinking so much. So he engaged too. But, eventually, he was the one who said we needed to stop and head back to the party before too much happened. I was disappointed but agreed.
After, we danced until the party died down. He said he was going to get a ride back home with Jonathan soon and I took him aside to say I wanted to kiss him again before the night was over. He agreed and we went to a different room this time where any remnants of inhibitions were entirely eliminated. I don't know how long we were in there but I wanted to stay even longer.
I wanted him to stay.
But for the second time that night, he was the responsible one and said we should go or we would never stop. I didn't want to. But I knew he was right.
It was like it was January all over again and the past 3 months we've spent determinedly as friends were suddenly clouded. He texted me the next morning to make sure I was okay, and I am. I told him I wasn't weirded out and I didn't regret anything . He told me he was in the same place. But now, I haven't seen him since then and the more time I spend alone thinking about it, the more I''m scared.
And now I'm so, so scared I messed up.
He's my best friend, the person I trust with my entire heart, who I can tell everything to. I don't want our established relationship to fall apart or shift in any way because of one night.
And the worst of it? Well honestly I'm not sure if this is a bad or good thing. But I want to do it again. Given the chance, I would hook up with him again, sober or not.
I don't know what that says.
I'm coming to learn that I have very strong, yet weakly upheld inhibitions. I set such constrained boundaries for myself that at the first glass of wine, come to speak of the third, I have run with the chance to cross them.
I think I like how quickly my boundaries come down but I don't think I like how tall and strict they are to begin with.
Remember that boy I used to blog about? He's baaaaack.
Well he never really left. In fact, he's become so close recently that I consider him one of my best friends of al time. I mean back in terms of the super distracting, can't stop thinking of the night way.
Thursday was his birthday. As I said he's one of my best friends so I found it natural to come early and help him set up. That part was simple: buy some snacks, drinks, cups. Set up a playlist. Relax and wait for the party to arrive.
I lost my glasses on an Uber to start the night off but eventually got them back and after a couple self-pity glasses of wine. And then the time came for people to arrive and I, light weight that I am, was already rather tipsy. I spent most of the night talking to friends, old and new, and dancing whenever a good song came on. Andrew, Kevin's pledge son, definitely won the best conversation award. He took Kevin and I aside and made us cry by telling us how much he appreciates the work we put in to Board and WW. It was SO nice to hear, especially after the past week of putting in 10+ hours to try to make this first spring training meeting a success.
But then the night progressed.
The night progressed and I had another glass of wine, making it my third. Most people would say that's nothing, but for me, that's the point when those carefully built walls come crashing down.
I know it was me. I know I came onto him. I found him in the kitchen and cozied up. He didn't withdraw. In fact he encouraged me, stroked my waist as I pulled closer. But I was the definitely the one to push forward. I was the one who stayed, kissed his neck, and whispered that I wanted to be alone with him. I told him I didn't want to be responsible for once.
I led him back to Summer's room and we were their for a while until people came banging on the door twice, trying to get their coats/ see what what happening with the birthday boy. The entire time, he was sure to state that we both knew this was a bad idea. That we broke it off the first time because we're meant to be best friends. Those were his words, but physically, he didn't stop me. I told him I wouldn't regret it and that, for once, I wanted to do what I wanted in the present rather than thinking so much. So he engaged too. But, eventually, he was the one who said we needed to stop and head back to the party before too much happened. I was disappointed but agreed.
After, we danced until the party died down. He said he was going to get a ride back home with Jonathan soon and I took him aside to say I wanted to kiss him again before the night was over. He agreed and we went to a different room this time where any remnants of inhibitions were entirely eliminated. I don't know how long we were in there but I wanted to stay even longer.
I wanted him to stay.
But for the second time that night, he was the responsible one and said we should go or we would never stop. I didn't want to. But I knew he was right.
It was like it was January all over again and the past 3 months we've spent determinedly as friends were suddenly clouded. He texted me the next morning to make sure I was okay, and I am. I told him I wasn't weirded out and I didn't regret anything . He told me he was in the same place. But now, I haven't seen him since then and the more time I spend alone thinking about it, the more I''m scared.
And now I'm so, so scared I messed up.
He's my best friend, the person I trust with my entire heart, who I can tell everything to. I don't want our established relationship to fall apart or shift in any way because of one night.
And the worst of it? Well honestly I'm not sure if this is a bad or good thing. But I want to do it again. Given the chance, I would hook up with him again, sober or not.
I don't know what that says.
Friday, March 13, 2015
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
3/11/15
Today was a good day-- productive, social, and fun all at the same time. After work this morning, I set off to the student center to lock myself away for a much needed day of studying. I got a lot of work done but, social being that I am, also began to lose my mind around the 4 hour mark.
Cue Alex.
Bless him. Alex joined my for what turned into an all day study party followed by early recollection analysis over dinner and a visit to our other friend Sheehan's violin recital. What could have been an awful day stuck by myself turned into an incredible day of bonding and supporting friends.
Alex and I balance each other out. While we're both driven and want to spend our lives helping people, we go about it different ways. Alex's go-to mentality is to just jump into things and give them his all and fix it later. I think of every possible scenario and gain as much input as possible before really doing anything in life. Alex is heading down the MD/PhD route and I'm not. I don't have much time to elaborate today but, even with all of the stress connecting him and some people I love dearly, I'm truly glad to know him.
At the recital, we ran in to Caroline, Caroline, Connie, David& Agustin. They were their usual wonderful selves and I was just overwhelmed with this feeling of being thankful.
Nothing insightful or reflective to say today. I'm just grateful today happened.
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
Boyhood vs. Girlhood
Two weekends ago, I decided to go watch Boyhood. All of my film major friends had been talking about it for weeks.
So I decided to go and I also decided to see it by myself.
As a caveat, I will say coming-of-age movies tend to be my weakness. They just get to me. Even if they're from a time period before I was born, I get nostalgic for a time lost. Time tragedies that I believe everyone goes through at least to some level. Seeing it by myself was a choice because I wanted to see how much it could resonate me personally. I wanted the solo experience rather than a joint one.
Watching Boyhood, especially given the fact that Mason grew up in the same world at the same time as me, I felt connected to him and as though they hit the nail on the head with my childhood.
But thinking about it now, I'm not sure if I entirely agree with that. Boyhood has a mass appeal because of the rights that are associated with it. Freedom, mainly. Freedom to choose your own adventures, freedom to be by yourself or not, freedom to make mistakes, freedom to form who you are around yourself, not the others in your life. And I love that topic. It's romantic, it's charming, and the audience travels with the character as they come into themselves.
But what about Girlhood? Samantha, Mason's sister in the story, had the opposite problem. She was amazing when the movie started. She was full of life, voiced her own opinions, and stood up for those who needed it. Despite a childhood of self-assurance and intelligence and confidence, she faded as time went on. She became someone who listened and looked for someone to support rather than grow into an individual herself.
And, God, I'm so scared the same has happened to me.
Society is moving past the point of raising girls one way and boys another and I think the way I grew up shows how that is beginning to blend. Yes, I has the Mason side of things, exploring the woods down the road from my house, spending full days jumping from stone to stone for miles in the creek, riding my bike in the hills till it was dark, and even, thanks to writing, having time to think about my values and who I think I am outside of the context of others.
But at the same time, I also had an overwhelming amount of Samantha in my life as well. I was taught that women are the neck to mens' heads. Supportive and directive but not the thing that people cared about, that people listened to. As I grew, I was taught to think increasingly more about how I might be perceived by others and how my actions should help people. While this is true, and I do love helping people, I've found that I may have crossed the line to where it is something that I feel I have to do rather than something I want to do. In conversations, I'll automatically play the listener, asking people how their days are, what's going on in their life, and engaged follow-up questions to support that because that's what good, active listeners do. But often this feels out like an obligation. I'm losing my want to actually know and invest in someone because the gesture is so rarely returned. People don't ask me nearly as many follow up questions or prod to know more about how I'm feeling, or where I am in life.
This isn't necessarily a fault of those that I converse with as I am also guilty of shying away from speaking about what's happening in my life. Even in the case that someone really does want to know, I'll speed through my side of things so that I can get back to my comfort zone of talking about the other person. Maybe I'll go a bit more in detail than the typical, I'm fine when I feel I trust the person enough, but if something isn't right, I'll graze over it saying something along the lines of "I'm over it, though," or "I just have to deal. I just have to move forward," or "I'll be okay." And while those are all true, there is something to be said about the process of working through things with others who care about you as your spring board. They have to invest in you as much as you invest in them. You can't have a fully formed relationship if the scale is too skewed in one direction.
I worry that a lot of the people I care so deeply about because I know so much about them might not feel the same way because they don't know as much about me. I don't allow them to. Sure, they'll enjoy our interactions because I mirror them and help them grow more into themselves. But without that balance, how can our relationship grow? Even if I really do want to share myself with someone, I find that so difficult now.
I don't want to just be a mirror of everyone else. I want to be myself, too. And, sometimes, I feel like I've been doing whats "right" and mirroring so long that I'm not sure enough of who that is anymore to share it. And I'm so terrified I'll never remember.
Monday, March 2, 2015
Really, Really Nice
I told someone I loved them last night.
It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t pre-meditated. He told me he loved me and I told him I loved him too. Because I do. Of course I do. I didn’t have to think twice about that and I knew it was true from the deepest depths of me.
It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t pre-meditated. He told me he loved me and I told him I loved him too. Because I do. Of course I do. I didn’t have to think twice about that and I knew it was true from the deepest depths of me.
It wasn’t the first time for me. I tell people I love them all the time-- family, friends. He’s just a friend as well. Once upon a time he was more than that but we talked and being friends was definitely the best choice for both of us. I’m truly glad for that. But there was a difference last night. The ‘I love yous’ weren’t in passing or in a hurry. Moments like these are different. I’ve only had a few exchanges where I’ve said those words and felt it in every part of myself because I let it sink in.
I felt it on the last day of PSTP when I sat alone at the bus stop in Gaithersburg crying and listening to Vitamin C’s “Graduation” and Ne-Yo’s “Never Knew I Needed” on my old IPod classic because I knew things wouldn’t ever be the same again. There wouldn’t ever be a time where we were all together like this again, choosing each others’ company over sleep, switching from laughter to quiet, intense conversations on where we thought our lives might be going in a moment’s notice because we trusted each other that much. Yes, there would be reunions. There would be birthdays and vacations in which a few of us could get together and reminisce about the days that had started it all. And we would make new memories too. But there would always be that hint of nostalgia instead of newness. There, I was known fully and loved fully anyway. I loved them. Of course I did.
Since then, I’ve had a few other moments like that, where I’ve felt love and longing and loneliness and the opposite of that because I’ve felt so deeply tied to people. There isn’t a reason for that tie but it’s definitely there, no question. And I feel that right now.
We were talking on the phone because sometimes texting just isn’t right. Actually, for me I really hate texting in general. There’s so much waiting and timing that a conversation loses its core and immediacy. But we were talking because this past weekend has been eventful for both of us. I had too much wine on Saturday night and was too much in my own head about what could have been a full year ago with someone else. He was on the path to repairing a friendship with an ex and their promising path in the right direction veered dramatically off path the same night. It’s particularly difficult because having his ex around is toxic to him but having him missing from his life is even worse. We stayed up talking till 2am even with a 9am in the morning and he apologized for keeping me up but I would have stayed up all night if he’d asked me to. He told me he loved me when we were saying goodnight and I said the same. I don’t know what it is but something makes me care that much. Not in a romantic love kind of way but with the kind of love that tells me I always want to have him around. He’s the first person I want to talk to.
This year has really been something. If the relationship I have with him is all that comes from this school year, I’m completely fine with that. It’s worth it. It’s always worth it with him. I love the feeling of having a go-to person who I want to share things. Someone I want to talk life through with.
And it’s nice. It’s just really, really nice.
And it’s nice. It’s just really, really nice.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Opposite of Loneliness
The Christmas lights around my window are white and mesmerizing. They’re fading in and out, in an out, flooding the room not with brightness but with some sort of light slowly then back to darkness. As these waves of lights pulse, I feel blurred. I feel like my body isn’t quite the end of myself and I’m melting into what surrounds me.
It’s been awhile since I’ve done this: sat here alone in the dark and tried to make sense of things through the calm steady rhythm of my computer keys. There’s something about being alone that does this to you. Maybe it’s the silence save for the wind blowing outside that makes my thoughts that much more clear. Maybe its that feeling of singularity, not necessarily loneliness, that makes me want t figure out things outside of the context of others. Even if they’re people who are important to me, sometimes moments like this are nice.
It’s been awhile since I’ve done this: sat here alone in the dark and tried to make sense of things through the calm steady rhythm of my computer keys. There’s something about being alone that does this to you. Maybe it’s the silence save for the wind blowing outside that makes my thoughts that much more clear. Maybe its that feeling of singularity, not necessarily loneliness, that makes me want t figure out things outside of the context of others. Even if they’re people who are important to me, sometimes moments like this are nice.
But today, I would like to write on loneliness. Or the opposite of it, whatever the word is for that. Recently, I’ve been full of this feeling, this knowledge that people remember what you say. They only know what you believe and feel is you tell them. I’ve also been meditating on the idea of endings and that it is that we take with us when they come. The combination of these ideas has caused my usually tongue-biting self to be direct. Honest, probably to a fault.
Over the past few months, there have been moments, so many moments where I felt so full. Sitting in that room on the night of Valentine’s Day after all the festivities were said and done, being spontaneously surrounded by friends who were there for no other reason than that they wanted to be together. That same night singing to bad pop music, playing drinking games, and laying on the futon with people who I’ve really only gotten to know this year. Of course, there were a couple of day one friendship there as well.But what stays with me is that feeling of being warm and right. Of something innocent and natural humming inside of me telling me that these are people who love and accept me for who I am today and who I might decide to be in the future. The feeling that no one’s missing.
Last night was another of those days. Board people came over and we sat around, celebrating the end of interviews and how far we’ve come. We’ve done get-togethers like this before. The first time, was intense, emotional because we trusted one another so much already. This time was less so. Maybe we drank a bit too much wine in celebration and maybe I kissed a few too many cheeks and held a few too many hands. But I felt as though I didn’t have to impress anyone. Any mistakes I make will be forgiven and if I need help, there’s people to fall back on. In these moments, I feel so full that I thought my heart might burst.
And it does.
I’m cheesy. I’ll be the first to admit it. Getting into writing so early in life probably ingrained that in me. But in these moments, I’ve taken to just telling people how it feels. They know. I know they know. But for me, something about speaking up, a text, a conversation, just a moment, solidifies that for me. I’ll send a GroupMe message telling everyone how much they mean to me or take someone aside and say “You know I love you, right?” I’ll send a follow up message after a night out telling people how much I trust them and how thankful I am that we’re friends.
And people groan. they have a right to. They smile awkwardly and make a joke to break the tension because in the world we live in, people don’t know how to respond to moments like these. Even I don’t. Afterward, I might be in my head wondering if they now think I’m strange or fake or mushy. Some days it gets to me. Most days it doesn’t. Because, you know what? I mean every word of it. Yes, I might say how much I love people too often that it might lose some significance to them but I mean it every time. IIf I love someone, why should I be ashamed? And why should I try to keep that quiet? Maybe it will weird them out for a bit but they’ll know for sure.
I’m so tired of all of the things we keep secret because we’re worried about what might happen if we speak up. We don’t tell the person we’re interested in them until after it has already torn us up in this quiet, internal battle no one knew was happening. We don’t tell our friends and family we love them and expect them to know how much. Maybe they do, but I can’t think of a time when I didn’t appreciate hearing it. We don’t connect as deeply with people because were worried the more they know, the more power they’ll have over us.
But what if we saw it differently? What if we saw these tiny moments, these small fears as a chance to build? What if investing in people completely wasn’t seen as losing a power play but instead gaining power over our own insecurities by choosing who we trust enough to give our hearts?
Going back to my inherent cheesiness, I’m going to go ahead and quote something that has stuck with me for a long time. “You don’t have a say if you get hurt in this world, but you do have a say in who hurts you. I like my choices.” Choose someone who you love. Tell them so.
I guess that’’s just where I am right now. This has been a recent change for me but I like where it’s going so far. We’ll just have to wait and see how it continues.
I needed this. As always, thanks for listening. (and read this if you get the chance! inspiration for today's post.)
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