"I didn't know what was happening to me. Everything was chaos and I was scared... order. That's what I needed. So I took my journal and started writing." For this summer, I am going to continue my job working as a Personal Care Assistant with the little boy I worked with last summer. I feel extremely blessed to have bonded with this family so well over the past year. I was touched when they gave me this graduation gift - I have put it on my desk and arranged the pieces so they read: Pause Create Evolve. Over this past week, these words have brought me some comfort. Pause.
I am taking this summer to pause, to catch my breath - to write, to read, to listen to music, to go on walks, to visit with friends. I feel these past couple years I have been moving non-stop in order to graduate on time, and now here I am. I am allowing time to work on myself and to explore my interests on a deeper level. Create. I am also using this summer to look closer at what I might want to do in the fall. I am scheduling meetings with occupational therapists and psychologists to chat with them about their career paths. I am taking a creative writing class in the cities so as to not lose sight of my passion and to help me stay grounded. I am continuing my work from last summer and continuing to learn new things about the people I am interested in working with one day. Evolve. I have been spending the last week cleaning my bedroom, in hopes to eventually remodel it. It has been the same since middle school, and I have gone through so much in this tiny space - including surgery and chemo recovery. There are a lot of memories residing here and as I have been cleaning I have almost felt like I have been reliving a lot of those moments, which sometimes can be a lot to process. I definitely do not feel like the same person living in this room anymore. I have changed immensely over the years. But - it has all been for the better, and I have to have faith that the same is going to continue (starting with my bedroom). I am very grateful I still have this place where I can spill out and sort through some of my thoughts when things feel a little too out of order. thank you for reading. <3
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I have opened this site 5 different times, and I have three different blog drafts blinking in the corner of my screen. I have been trying for weeks to articulate all that I have been feeling, and it has been extremely difficult. But I am going to sit here now, and I am going to try. In April, I spoke in chapel about my experiences with cancer, and how my time at Olaf has allowed me to heal and to cope. Yet, since that day, I have felt a new healing experience opening up. As I am preparing to graduate, I have constantly been reflecting on all I have gone through these past few years. I have often minimized my experience of cancer because it was "behind me" but now it seems to be more visible to me than ever. In my children's literature class, we read The Giver. Last week I was reading the book curled up under the soft lights of my dorm room when I read a part that brought tears to my eyes. Jonah, the main character, was struggling to recognize why people in his town don't have memories, especially painful ones. But why can't everyone have the memories? I think it would seem a little easier if the memories were shared. You and I wouldn't have to bear so much by ourselves, if everyone took a part." Three years ago I went through something extremely challenging. In doing so, I felt it was my duty to be there for everyone else who was struggling, too. But it is not always easy. I have been reflecting a lot on my freshman year of college and all of the physical and emotional pain I experienced - something I have not really thought of for a long time. But those feelings were real, and it was my own experience. During this past month I have been addressing some of these painful moments. It has been incredibly difficult, but also very healing. In my medical terminology class, we were assigned to read through case studies and reword them so all of the medical terms were in a language anyone could understand. I started reading a case study, and my heart skipped a beat. The patient has been experiencing extreme night sweats, a loss of appetite, weight loss and fatigue. The patient underwent a CT scan, and discovered they would need chemotherapy and radiotherapy treatment. I googled "Hodgkin's Lymphoma", "chemotherapy" and "radiation treatment" in order to put it all into words that made sense to the general public, despite the fact that I had experienced all of this firsthand. It is a heavy reminder that, no matter how much I try with words, no one will ever fully understand what I have been and am currently going through. Last weekend, the St. Olaf Cancer Connection hosted a luminaria ceremony - a time to honor and remember all those who have had cancer. The campus was illuminated with little bags of candles as we all took a moment to stop and reflect. I did not have enough time to make a bag for every person in my life affected by cancer, but I knew I could fill a whole row, which made my heart hurt. It was around this time that I found out about the passing of a St. Olaf student, Marshall Bruno. He had leukemia. He left after his first semester. For a few hours, I was inconsolable as the memories of cancer were again too real, too familiar. That night at the luminaria ceremony, I asked everyone to light glow sticks. The dimming day became aglow with love for parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends. As Coldplay sings, "lights will guide you home." I have made a home for myself at St. Olaf, and I am going to miss it immensely at the end of this month. This is the place where I experienced a lot of pain, but also a lot of beauty, love and light, and that is what I will always hold on to. The taste of coconut juice stings my tongue and cuts through my jet lagged mind. Flecks of sand dust the soles of my new Chacos and warm my feet. I blink into the bright sun and take in the view - a shoreline dotted with bundles of fishing nets, coconuts and dogs. I settle into the sand, forming a circle with my classmates. Seated across from us are a group of women chatting excitedly. Their colorful saris and bangles glint in the late morning sun. It is our second day in India, and we have traveled to visit the villages of Pulicat Lagoon. We have gathered on the beach and are invited to ask about the daily life of the women in this village. Through translations from a local social worker, we learn about their days of doing housework, caring for their children and finding community in each other. After some conversation, a student asks the women if they are content with their lives. One woman begins to answer, playing with her toe rings in the sand. Yes, there is some discontent here. We learn that these women were all married into this village, and that their lives are characterized by oppression. Women here are denied education, cannot visit their parents without permission from their husband, and have no role or voice in the local government. Then, this woman says something I know I will not soon forget. She said there is also a feeling that something is missing - something that could potentially lead to the fullness of life. They can’t quite place what it is, but it feels just out of reach. The translator shares that if the local government would empower women, they could see positive changes in the economy, education system, and environment. Later that day, as we sped back to our hotel, I tried to form optimistic thoughts about the coming days of this trip, but was weighed down by the reality of what we just learned. I was disheartened to hear firsthand about the women’s repressive lives. Yet, as I gazed at the beginnings of a sunset, I also experienced a sense of hope and light on the horizon. This image held clear in my mind as the long bus ride to our hotel lulled me to sleep. As our group continued to explore and move deeper through India, I began to see this hopeful light grow brighter and brighter. In Pondicherry, we visited a rural village and celebrated Pongal, a harvest festival. We were welcomed by such a vibrant and kind community of people. Upon our arrival they wove flowers into our hair and slipped colorful bracelets on our wrists. During our visit, we learned that both boys and girls were attending school, and this community of both men and women were working together to foster a life of inclusivity and equality for generations to come. As we drove away, I admired the new bangles I had received, taking comfort in the way they shimmered in the evening sunlight. In Bangalore, we had the opportunity to visit the NIMHANS Center for Well Being, a branch of the NIMHANS (National Institute of Mental Health and Neurosciences) government hospital that focuses on promoting the importance on mental health. The center worked to address many things, including alcohol addictions, parent-child wellbeing, trauma recovery, and positive psychology among all age groups. The center also worked a lot with youth groups, educating them on the importance of mental health and empowering them to recognize and care for this important part of human growth and development. As we walked back from the center through a residential street, I captured an image of a large tree blooming with vibrant golden and green colors. A few days later, our group visited the Parikma Center for Learning, a non-governmental organization that acts as a school for young children in Bangalore. We learned that “parikma” is a Sanskrit word that means “to complete the circle.” Those at Parikma are dedicated to helping children flourish from end to end - they carefully guide students through high school and college, and mentor them in finding successful jobs beyond their completion of school. Parikma cares for each child, as well as each family member. The Parikma Foundation wants to ensure that each child returns home to a happy and safe environment. A collaborative effort is made to empower the parents to sustain a better life. For example, mothers receive training to learn English so they can learn alongside their children. Many fathers struggle with alcohol addiction, yet the foundation provides programs to help fathers overcome it, and uses the child’s education as a motivator. When we arrived at the school, one of the first things I noticed was a chalkboard that faced out onto the courtyard. Written on it was a “thought for the day” by Sundar Pichai, the CEO of Google, which read: “Indian education should allow a system of creativity, project based, experiential learning. We should teach students to take risks and not penalize them for being different.” Later that day we were welcomed into a classroom, where the children sang songs and played games with us. I walked over to a table of small boys and sat next to them. Immediately, they started asking my name and wondering where I was from. Soon they were teaching me phrases in Hindi and showing me magic tricks. One boy made an origami shape out of a playing card and handed it to me, “free of charge.” I thanked him, and took out a few tiny cat bookmarks I had brought from home. The boys shouted excitedly as I clipped each bookmark to their notebooks. They asked, “how much?” and I told them it was a gift - free of charge. The Parikma Foundation is working to eradicate poverty not by giving money, but by empowering these children through education. I could see all of these kids had an extreme passion for learning. I was touched by the loving community Parikma has created - the teachers truly care about their students, and in turn the students care deeply about their teachers and each other. This experience allowed me to recognize such a cohesive and collaborative community, all working together for a brighter future. Since returning to the U.S. and reflecting on this time abroad, I have pieced together this ever evolving image of change and promise. It has all come together to form a unique kind of hope, a feeling I wish to always have when I think of India.
It’s Thanksgiving morning and I am curled up on the couch with my cup of coffee watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Suddenly the Broadway cast of Dear Evan Hansen appears on screen and sings their song “You Will Be Found.” I am captivated by the amount of compassion in their eyes and voices. That night, I listened to this song as I fell asleep, and since then have had the soundtrack on repeat. And this afternoon, I have just returned from seeing the movie Wonder. I don't think I have ever cried during a movie for as long of a duration as I did this one (which is saying something, given the movies I have seen and my high emotional reactivity). The amount of love and warmth in this film is truly heart melting. The movie follows a boy named Auggie, who is in fifth grade. He was born with a facial difference, and has been homeschooled all his life, up until now. Throughout the movie, you see Auggie gain courage and friendships as he learns to face the world as he truly is. Earlier this week when I came home for break, I went to the elementary school to surprise my friend Nathan whom I worked with this summer. The look of pure surprise on his face when I arrived is one that I will remember for a long time. I couldn't stop smiling when I was in the cafeteria with him as he proudly introduced me to his friends and we all discussed his YouTube channel and new kitten. During this movie I could hardly hold myself together. I thought about my summer with Nathan and all that he has taught me about not being afraid. I thought about when I was younger and felt like I wasn't able to do as much as other kids. And, as Auggie says in the movie, I thought about how "we are all wonders." I have been through my share of obstacles, but these tough memories are always overshadowed by the unending support I have received and all the incredible connections I have made. These connections have added so much light and warmth in my life. In my eyes, all of these people are individual wonders, as they have all woven through my life in so many beautiful ways. The holiday season is upon us, which can be a difficult time for some. I ask that you keep your eyes and ears open and be there to lift up someone who may need it. Your kindness can be the light in someone's darkness. And by being a light, you can illuminate all of the wonders in this world. (I also just wanted to have a space to let out some of my recent obsessions because they are consuming a lot of moments in my life right now, but I think both pair well together. Also, PLEASE GO WATCH WONDER). <3 Last weekend, I went to see Aladdin the musical. I was captivated by the pure magic of it all - the colors, costumes, music and lights. My favorite was the magic carpet scene - Aladdin and Jasmine began to sing about their dreams to experience a new world, and soon began to float above the stage. Even though they were in the middle of singing, the audience started clapping and you could hear audible gasps throughout the theatre as people simply could not contain their pure awe and wonder. There they were, suspended in midair among a shimmering night sky before our eyes. My breath caught in my throat as I felt the tangible sense of magic in the room.
This weekend, I witnessed magic in another form - through love and human connection. I spent Saturday saying goodbye to someone I will always hold close to my heart. The room was filled with people who had unending love for this person and it was visible everywhere you looked. At times I felt broken as I shook under the weight of the grief I felt. But there was always someone nearby to hold me up and put a strong, reassuring arm around me. I felt a healing power in the sense of touch, and that spoke volumes. I also felt a healing power in the love that shone from this person we have lost. During this time, it felt like my life was suspended among the shining light that had radiated from this person's life. And like the magic carpet, I felt my soul flying through it all - the warmth, the love and the pure magic of the human connections that were formed in these friendships. This person had magic inside them and shared it with everyone they met. You could see this magic shining through everyone there as they hugged and supported each other. As I drove home, light broke through the clouds and warmed my tear-stained face. I felt a sense of peace as my life settled back into reality, because I knew this light would always be inside me and I was going to do my best to spend my life sharing this person's radiance with the world. We all have magic inside us, which is a powerful thing that we must not shy away from. This magic holds human connections together so strongly and so beautifully. And just think of the world we would have if we started to spread our wings and sprinkle this magic to everyone around us. "This is just the most exciting thing I think I have ever participated in," an ABC News reporter proclaims as he stares at the solar eclipse happening right before his eyes. It is February 26, 1979, and the news team informs the country that a solar eclipse will not happen again for 38 years. "The next eclipse will happen on August 21, 2017," the news anchor explains.
Tomorrow, the moon will pass between the sun and Earth. Although I will not be able to fully see this solar eclipse from Minnesota, other parts of North America will experience darkened skies as the moon casts a shadow. People will travel to places such as Montana, South Carolina and Oregon to experience this solar eclipse in its "path of totality." It's quite exciting that we get to witness such a special event where the Earth, sun and moon will align. So special, in fact, that this news anchor from 1979 had quite a lot of hope for this upcoming solar eclipse. He concluded the broadcast by saying, "may the shadow of the moon fall on a world at peace." In the wake of the events that took place in Charlottesville, this past week has been filled with too much hate, violence and bigotry. Our country feels broken and lost as we are unsure where to turn for a sense of comfort and hope. And unfortunately, conflict extends beyond our borders as problems such as violence and poverty exist in countries across the world. This world does not always feel like a peaceful place, and hatred is not a foreign concept. The solar eclipse is a very special time for the Earth, even if other parts of the world will only experience a partial eclipse. I just want to take this time to remind everyone to think about peace. Yes, our world is suffering and often feels broken under the weight of conflict and hatred. A sense of peace may feel foreign at this particular moment, especially with the knowledge that the solar eclipse will cast a shadow and dispel light. But I think this solar eclipse is coming at a perfect time - it has the power to remind human beings how much light we have. We hold so much power in our words, our thoughts and our actions. We are all examples of living light, and we have so much glow and warmth to spread. So as we find ourselves in the shadows, I ask you to be that warm glow. In doing so, I hope our light can burn brighter than ever as we experience this small but beautiful moment in time. And above all, through the darkness, I hope we can find peace. I also encourage you all to watch this broadcast from 1979, as I believe it gives a sense of hope and reminds us just how special this event truly is. Shine on. |