Working Out My (International) Travel Stories

Traveling is a sensory overload.

I'm winding down on my international tour through Spain, France, Italy, Greece, and Turkey. In a few days, I'll be back with family in Bangladesh trying to build a whole 'nother life on the subcontinent (though I'm sure my compulsions -- book buying, tea drinking, and writing about people in public -- will still stay much the same).

Drawing of Athens as seen from Mt. Lycabettus -- my phone overheated and so I took out my pens and sketched till there was no more light (thankfully I have been carrying red, black, and blue ink pens!)

On this trip, I've been drawing more than writing, photographing more than drawing. And each medium is so different. Drawing resonates with my emotions more than my eye; photographs give me a realistic slice of scenery, but not the depth (emotionally or physically). Writing just feels stubborn. How do you portray the visual and emotional in one line? How do you honor the place while not essentializing/stereotyping it or its people? I've been caught in the trap of overgeneralizing in my early drafts -- trying to capture the details in a very general way. Thus it's been my self-appointed writing assignment these past few weeks to capture the feeling of a place rather than its contours. I'm starting with a place that's in my near memory from just a few days ago in Istanbul. Stay tuned for more.

P.S. I'm also including two drawings that I've done on this trip -- both from amazing places in Greece. These pictures are straight from the notebook, so apologies in advance for the weird angles (neither, after all, is a photographic representation!). I think that they do well to capture the emotional energy of those places.

Drawing of a pebble beach against cliffs and the Aegean sea on Agistri in Greece, using pen and colored pencil.

She wasn't pretty like women you'd see standing on pedestals in the museums with their elegant robes draped just-so. She had hair that wound around her square face and eyes so dark and vacant that in the dim light they appeared pupil-less, staring past you. I stooped to look at her. The carved line of her cheekbone cast a shadow across the dark water below. Her head was upside down and, a few meters away, another version lay tipped on its side.

We had wound around the corridors - past the wishing spot and down a set of slippery stairs - to greet her. I turned to look over my shoulder at a patch of unlit columns, catching a glimpse of some fish encircling them as another amateur photographer's flash went off. I inhaled and turned back to her, her stone expression lit up and darkened as people drifted by. Many just went for the picture, a single burst, then power-walked back onto the path. I lingered. Then the next wave of paying guests arrived.

I was reminded of how often I've heard her name: Medusa. Snake-haired and turning people to stone (hence why she's been placed upside down/on her side). When I had safely returned to the dry and well-lit cafe area, I became aware of my shallow breathing. I was surprised at how much the eeriness had affected me; many tourist attractions lose their power due to the onslaught of people and gimmicks. The Basilica Cistern, underground and filled with dark corners, retained its well.

From being here, I've come to know a basic history of historical architecture: cisterns supplied the Ottomans with water before they installed pipe systems. I've come to know that several ancient empires had a lot in common, including their pantheon of gods. I've come to know that the way a few people find out about this place is through Dan Brown's Inferno. It makes me curious about how we put together the parts and pieces of our knowledge - popular literature, high school history classes, signs in museums - and reminds me of how terribly limited my own knowledge is from these sources.

It's hard to stumble upon these things in an American life. You have to want to know, then move from there. A day later, I stumbled into an English language bookstore and took a shot.

In the Service of Others: Working Myself Sick

I've been working myself sick lately.

Taking a step back from my commitments so that I can recommit to myself -- a lesson that I am always in the process of re-learning, but that has especially come up since the month of Ramadan -- has proved to be way more challenging than just canceling a few appointments and finishing a few jobs.

One of my major tasks at work is to address the needs of patients who are calling into the clinic; their issues may be urgent, or they may feel they are urgent despite the easy answers that come with a few minutes of gentle probing. They don't know our systems, and we don't know their lives. But we are building a scaffolding to address their health needs not only in response to symptoms, but at the root in prevention. Even though I have to keep in mind when there are difficult callers that they are experiencing really stressful situations, I can't get enough of the feeling that I am helping people.

I am always moonlighting to get more of that feeling. The jobs that I feel called to are all in the service of others: in the past three weeks, I have attended an equivalent number of births. I have massaged three women while they were in labor, watched their babies come into the world in the wee hours of daylight or the late hours of the evening, and absorbed that unique energy that keeps birthworkers up for hours and hours at a time (minimum, I have been with the moms for 7 hours or more per these births). You step out of your body for a moment, through giving so much of your energy to that person as they deliver. I have been wanting to write about this feeling for so many weeks, but haven't had the breathing room to sit with it.

 
This feeling is one of the reasons I love my healing work. People need me, it feels like. People need me to answer the phones, send the emails, stand by the bedside, advocate for their rights, connect them with resources... I am the interpreter of systems and the gatherer of knowledge -- how lofty and cool does that sound? But, in some ways, it's a trap.

When I am facing my deepest personal challenges, I often ask: "caretakers, who takes care of you?" It's not just a silly inversion of words. It really helps remind me that I need to rely on and truly trust others to provide me the energy in order to keep working in their service.

Lately, I've been circling the drain of thinking that the only reason someone would want my presence is for my ability to serve them. Resting your self-worth on a concept so tied to performance takes a toll on you when you decide, for your own basic wellbeing, that you must take time to eat food at regular hours, sleep in, and turn down potential job offers. Because there is no end to how many things people need from you, and ultimately you will disappoint someone. Ultimately, you will disappoint someone through taking what you need.

I can think of no better example of this than regarding my recent move. In the past few months, I have had cockroaches destroy my things and crawl over me while I slept in my Bronx apartment. The decision to move was inevitable, but I finally took steps to make it happen in the last month. In the past week, with the help of several friends, I packed up and shipped out to a new comfortable and roach-free place in Brooklyn. My previous landlord, however, decided to take this as a personal affront to him and called -- not to collect money or ask me to do any particular thing -- but to lecture at me for 30 minutes about my irresponsibility as a tenant. I interpret that he needed me to take his emotional burden from him as I tried to meet my own needs. Then it came forward: Disappointment in myself. Guilt about moving. Shame. In my mind, I was already taking responsibility. I had to realize that the other person must also hold up their part of the relationship.

I've put on hold a lot of the work that I can be doing for others, but that doesn't make it any easier to step away when I feel responsible. Or to acknowledge my own emotions/ego around success or failure. Or to admit that caring for others allows me to avoid caring for myself. If Allah gives us only the burdens we can carry, easing someone else's does not guarantee that you have managed your own.

I send love and wish ease to all those who are carrying burdens now that feel impossible to hold. I admire those who survive, who take what they need with no apology whether they are forced to or by choice. Know that I need to learn as much from you as I do from other healers about how to move closer to my own truth.

The Pale Thin Light: Looking Forward after a Loss

As I shared last week, there was a recent death in my family. As a result, I've been struggling to process the event while still keeping myself on a regular schedule, spending time with people as they return to campus, and getting ready for the new classes that started today. In some ways, the regularity and the busy school atmosphere are helping me to take my mind off of the loss, but it's definitely going to take some time to come to terms with. The thought regularly crosses my mind that this is not the worst of it - the hardest part will be returning to Bangladesh and knowing that that person will no longer be there.

But, while I find it very important to keep that in mind, I believe that its not the sole thought that should take over my spirit throughout these tough times. As a result, I have been thinking of ways that I hope to buoy myself up and work forward from this loss, and I hope to share them with you. Loss can appear in many forms other than death - small and large, there are many life events that can feel as if they will shatter our spirits and hold us hostage. All we can do in those times is to turn inward and keep our attention on the light that comes from within us, even when it feels as if that light has only a weak glow to offer.

Unfinished (or Taking Time to Heal)

It is harder to live.

You experience too much or not enough. You struggle uphill without a clear plateau in sight. Your priorities shift and what you've been working towards is suddenly invalidated. You stumble. You lose. You become covered in dirt and must wash yourself clean.

You listen to sad music when your spirits are up. You do everything incorrectly even when you know what needed to happen. You don't ask questions because it's scary to look vulnerable. You especially don't want to look vulnerable.

We are imperfect beings because otherwise we are unable to learn. We're not meant to know exactly what to do at all times. It's never made more clear than when you look back on the moments of your life and realize that they're an amalgamation of embarrassing, sad, fallible, and occassionally thrilling glimmers that can still produce a cringe or a rueful smile in your everday life. The state of happiness cannot exist without its opposite: we take the bitter with the sweet. Our strength is the product of our struggles.

I intend to make this post a hopeful one. Usually I write about my endeavors and artistic works on this day of the week, but I honestly admit to you that I have been "messing up" for the last few weeks on that front. I have been taking care of myself and making art has been put on hold. I have been re-evaluating and turning over in my mind every emotion in the book - even before this period of mourning, the semester had been studded with rough patches I had wanted to sit down and work through for some time. So I have been repeating the words that I started this piece with: it is harder to live. We are only given the burdens we can carry and, ultimately, we emerge as better people because of it. Believe me, I know what it is to be low down in the trenches.

For now, my thoughts are shrouded in a layer of "I'm not doing enough/doing it right/doing anything important." I am being a huge worrywort because I have taken this time for myself to rest and heal the raw patches of my heart. But I know that there must be a reason for this struggle, a reason to put these parts of my life on hold for the moment and just to breathe. To recognize the importance of slowing down and recapturing the energy of the universe in my own fragile body. I recommend it to others almost daily - now it's for me to practice what I preach.

The Value of Controlling and Using Anger

(Emoticon courtesy of Link3Kokiri on DeviantArt)

Anger is an emotion that I have lived with forever, and many times I have felt consumed by it. When I fail to complete a small task or end up late at a meeting, I feel the anger reflected inward towards myself. When I view injustice towards women, Muslims, and other groups, I feel a sort of unfocused anger outwards to the world.

The first type of anger, I have worked to control for many years and in the process have stifled the second type of anger, the outward kind. Recently, however, I’ve heard a new perspective on outward-directed anger: that it can be utilized for social change and need not be stifled, just directed.

Living in the Moment

I realized quite a bit late that most of my posts from last week were food-related, which was not necessarily a bad thing, but a little repetitive! So, this week I am going to avoid food and talk about something completely different.

I have had one problem for pretty much my entire teenage and adult life: not living in the moment.

At first, I did not identify this as the root of my problem. I would get depressed easily in my youth and believe that it was because of all the problems that were weighing down on me from the outside. And, although there were some times when that was truly the case, most of the time I suspect that my bigger problem was the fact that I was dwelling on something that was either in the unchanging past or the unknowable future.

Have you ever had the experience of playing back an embarrassing memory over and over again and cringing each time you do it? I did that on repeat for so long that I started to believe that I was the most awkward middle school or high school student in existence. And sometimes I still get hung up on the little peculiarities that happen in my daily life, the ones that stand out as not-quite-right or just plain ridiculous. The major difference, however, between my middle/high school self and my current one is that I no longer let those feelings overtake my life.

I have always heard the phrase that life is too important to be taken so seriously; but, for many of us, the serious mode is the only way we know how to operate. The better way to approach it, at least for me, is to start living in the moment. Feel whatever you are feeling right this minute, this second, and don't let seriousness bleed into the other dimensions. That past and future will never be fully under your control. It's better to embrace the facts and not, as I have, allow the feelings of being less-than-perfect in the past affect your current life.

This philosophy, of course, is easier said than done. So here are some ways that I have found useful to start living in the moment:

1. Yoga. This is how I learned about living in the moment in the first place. When going to a yoga studio that focuses not just on your body, but you as a holistic being, they guide you through meditation and other important calming ways to live inside your body right at that moment. Doing yoga regularly builds up this discipline, and definitely helps take the edge off those past experiences and worries about the future.
2. Breathing exercises and mantras. Sometimes it can sound a little "out there" to have a personal mantra, but I think it should be treated more as a way to remind yourself to check in. I like to take them not from a prescribed list, but from articles and other inspirational writing, such as these pieces on Think Simple Now or from poetry on DeviantArt. When you recite a mantra in your head, take a moment to breathe and release any tension that you might feel when thinking about past or future events.
3. Taking a self-care moment. I find that when the worry or self-judgment gets too great, I have to really force myself to do this one. Often, I have to have someone remind me, in a loud voice, to calm down! It is much easier to take that advice when I step out of whatever the work is that I am doing to re-evaluate and do something for myself. Making tea is definitely a go-to for me, but you should find your own way of going about bringing your focus back into your body.

Please leave any suggestions you might have about living in the moment in the comments!

Check out some other lessons I've learned.

The Relaxation Manifesto

Something that I have to remind myself of every day I take off: the meaning of relaxation is to not to think about its end.

This vacation has been about that principle in a lot of ways - staying in the present and enjoying the minutes, forgetting (or at least being ok with the idea that) you are skipping work in favor of having fun, mind melding with the random people you meet and not questioning it.
I must admit, this vacation has been a ride of emotions for me. I have felt at times thankful, lonely, annoyed, ludicrously happy, tired, regretful about work, reflective and truly sad. If this weekend was a microcosm for my life, then it did a pretty good job in representation.
As I sit down trying to finish NaNo and thinking about my priorities for tomorrow's work catch-up day, I wonder about why I am so focused on the past and the future. The feeling that I last posted about in The Real Thanksgiving is something that I wish I could commit to, but it has been the hardest struggle just to achieve it for a couple of hours. I am always thinking about the moment that it will pass or change.

Anyway, perhaps the solution is not to dwell on those subjects for the time being. Switching mindsets, here is a list of some of the truly amazing things I did in this short weekend:

1. Finished my alien color scarf (pictured above)
2. Met up with friends from Seattle who go to East Coast schools (and made a new friend out of one of their roommates!)
3. Explored Manhattan at night and walked for hours and hours on end
4. Followed the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade from 66th to 34th street on foot
5. Bought fancy fancy yarn for two upcoming projects (not telling what they are till they're finished!)
6. Ate Thanksgiving dinner twice: once alone at a great restaurant and the second time with fabulous friends from pre-college!
7. Made goat cheese mashed potatoes and pumpkin cream pie (so bomb!)
8. Walked the Brooklyn Bridge from end to end in the nighttime (by the way, whose idea was it to have see-through wooden slats on the Brooklyn Bridge walking path?)
9. Talked philosophy and other hardcore subjects late into the night with AU friend affectionately known as Catskill
10. Spent time eating excellent Bengali food with my friend in Queens

Thank you everyone who made this weekend special and great.

Want to see what else I've been knitting?

Nerd Girl Inc: Be Selfish

(a selfish indulgence: homemade mac n' cheese)

Today, I did a lot of learning.
Before you get snarky (that's what college is for, Jordan), hear me out.
So far, my college experience has been all about me. A somewhat selfish time to explore all the possibilities that I didn't get in high school. I exploited the opportunity to take classes that were interesting, took advantage of my location to take in great shows and do amazing things, and participated in all those classic campus experiences that one must have in their youth. But now, I think that the glitz has passed away a little bit. I'm a working stiff, like most other people, and I was starting to let the big plans get muddled up in the more immediate ones. "When am I going to get my next paycheck?" became more important than "What am I going to do after college?"
As you probably know by now, I am a notorious planner. I had the broad strokes of my life laid out before I could really understand the work involved to get there. So now, after all those years of planning, I'm living it. The New York City life where the tedium and the spectacular have combined.

What does this have to do with learning? Well, today I got to play with the big dreamer in me in two arenas:
1. I attended a Careers in Psychology panel that opened my eyes to grad school - both what I should be doing to get there and what I should do when I get out.
2. And then I did a workshop on safer sex with a floor of freshmen and their RA, which taught me as much about myself as it taught them about alternative birth control methods.

All this year and parts of last, I have been attending and giving workshops that involve everything from bookbinding to discussions of healthy eating, and they have slowly brought me to the realization that I like helping people and explaining things. That I know more than I give myself credit for. And, most importantly, that I need to keep playing with the bigger dream of becoming a counselor and helping people in minority communities.
I encourage everyone to look at their big plans, no matter what they are, and breathe into them some life. Go to a workshop or find a program. Be selfish for a change.

Read more Nerd Girl Inc. posts and check out the related series, Caught My Eye.

Personal Healing: Contact

I am theoretically happy.
I say theoretically because it sometimes feels like I am in a vacuum, all light and sound collapsing around me. I am holding in all the feelings that I've made myself too busy to feel, and sometimes things implode without me noticing it.
I have had mild depressive episodes since I was a teenager and most of them were related to loneliness and apathy. I solved them then by finding more faith in God and religion or by busying myself to the point that I could ignore the feelings until they went away. I started to restructure my life to be more accepting of myself - my body, my likes and dislikes - and the depression began to fade away. It would come as blips in the radar, anomalies that could be explained away as they came up.
But moving to NYC has been hard on everything. Though I would reward myself for my independence, I would also feel like I was slipping away from something. I was losing contact. I am a social person by nature, but my sociability didn't make me happier. It didn't make me feel like I was doing any good. I was drowning in shallow water, and I didn't know anyone who could help me out.
Contact. The all-important necessity that a lot of New Yorkers don't get. The manufactured contact between my long distance boyfriend and myself was great, but it was still something that neither of us could touch. I had contact with a few friends, but most of the ones I could communicate deeply with were far away. And casual contact here means attending the same events and then parting ways, no follow-up date or growing partnership.
And sometimes I blame myself for this - why didn't I call her again or send more messages? Meanwhile, rather than proactively seeking ties and friendships, I slipped into more of my delusions; working and academics were what I was here for mainly, right? I was dunking my head in without even realizing it.
Is this what it feels like to be an adult? Perhaps that is the cold reality that I need to swallow, the water that I'm drowning in, this transition between youth and adult. But I still hold on to the hope that human contact is not so hard to achieve, that it is still lurking out there somewhere.
I don't think that this is my constant reality, this depression that dogs at me sometimes. But, on the rare occasion when I am yearning for something more than a club meeting or a casual conversation before class, it is sometimes hard to put that in perspective. I think of all the lonely things: how my boyfriend is 3000 miles away, how I won't get to hang out in Washington till summer, how I wish I had a pet to hold or something. It's a frustrating thing to have little motivation because it turns into a cycle of negative thoughts and actions. You're not helping yourself during this.
Recently, life in the city has been hard for this reason. I have to break my own cycles and get some help, but it's an exercise in positivity when I don't feel I have any. It's a weird charade. But I have to keep trying.

*This post was not meant to bother anybody or invite them to worry about my mental state. I think that most people get sad sometimes, and this is just my method of expressing it rather than holding it in. If you would like to chat with me about it, please send me an email or a private message on Facebook. Thanks for your consideration.

Revived

I'm going to the Grand Canyon! Ahhh! I am so happy!
It was a tense battle of wills, but my father finally allowed me to go on vacation with Josh and his family. We are going to California and then to the Grand Canyon and, hopefully, there my creative output will be revived.
There are so many ideas that I want to carry out, but I have little motivation! Gah!
Today I was looking through Photoshop work that I had done a while ago and it renewed my interest in working with images - I also worked with photography today and it totally made me want to go out and make more and more art (especially because my boyfriend got his new Nikon in - that's him, in the picture, which I took with my camera and he edited in Photoshop to have burned edges). Ah! And that made me want to write and make books and this this that that... I am ready to explode with creativity! And yet... it's not that I don't have the time - but I don't have the drive to do anything. It's terrible.
Second to that, I believe my health is declining. Goodness, all of that comes back just as my relationship problems right themselves and my happiness is level again. But I guess that's how the pendulum swings - now I can focus on balancing creative works and personal wellness again.
Ah, life.

I am grateful for...
Concessions. Such as the one my father made for my happiness, to allow me to go on vacation. Such as the one I made to allow forgiveness into my heart to replace anger. Such as the one that lets me be alive in the United States and cared for and loved. This I am grateful for.


Check out some more posts featuring my photography.

The Trigger

At 3:20pm:
When I want to take a break, I do.
When I want to work, I do that also.
When I wish I was doing something else entirely? I fight and struggle to get things the way that I want.
I think I failed my IB Theater TPPP today - even though I thought it was solid in preparation, I didn't do well. And so, before I jump off the bridge into the freezing water of rejection and failure, I am giving this day up to myself. I want to do what I want. Everything creative and pent up that just wants to burst out of me: now is the opportunity. What kind of list would this make? I'll probably make dozens. But I want to do it all. Right here and now. Let's go.

At 9:55pm:
I spent the entire day doing a one-on-one photography shoot with myself. Why? Because of pure frustration energy. I wanted to celebrate myself, do something creative, accentuate my crazy wardrobe and new figure, avoid homework, and (best of all) create a stockpile of images to blog with [46 whoo!] I think it turned out pretty well - I was tossing around this idea with making a collage. Now that I have spent the entire day focused on that, I now am dog tired and minus one lamp (it fell over during my shoot). I think I will carry out other parts of my list, such as writing a flippin' story and reading.
Yeah, probably reading.

Check out some more posts featuring my photography.

Ups & Downs...

I feel. I really do.
I'm not sure why, but today has been one of changing emotions. I felt so good just to be at the end of the week and having accomplished something with my cast and having worked out most days of the week... then it came crashing down when my oral spiraled away from me and I realized there were more issues with Speak and I overate without realizing it at Dairy Queen. Oh, and my car got egged. Great, isn't it? Gah...
So, I returned home and opened my email to balance my own self and I received another TUT from the Universe. Those messages are really helpful to me - they just keep encouraging me to realize. Just to realize. To acknowledge. To hope, to dream, to understand. And, best of all, when there is something wrong, I really try to clear my head and work on it after reading one of those.
I am grateful that there are little things that make up for it. Like playing tennis for hours. And laughing with friends who really understand you. And just... feeling complete. Even when you're not because no one can ever be "complete" as it were. The world spirals into an art form, and that's where we deliver up our souls.

The picture for today is a plain one. Something that was taken yesterday amidst arm flailing and other oddities; it is my closet of wonders. What might you find?

Check out some more posts featuring my photography.

So... I Hit A Bump

I started watching TV again. I finished an essay draft but then felt guilty today for not producing the same result. I started knitting, realized that I was making it a task, and slumped back to watch a marathon of Mythbusters. Go figure.
But I have found a couple of interesting articles that are making me feel like I can get up again. I am going to call this day just a bump, and then get over it and work on stuff for the next week and a half with renewed vigor. Probably because I am going to put up my goals/plans on here so that whenever I click the link I know what is going on. Enjoy.
December 26th - January 5th Goals:
- Write...
- JFK essay
- HAMSA essay
- APIASF essays
- Davidson Fellows portfolio
- Edit...
- Elks essay,
- Extended Essay
- Research Investigation
- Sustainability essay
- Create...
- A Greeting Card
- Memorize...
- Midsummer
- Finish...
- French cultural project
- Jane Eyre
- Outlining Speak
- Theater reviews
- Sweater
Send...
- Letters to PCP friends
- Letter to Chiara

Happy Life

The people you love are not always those that best care for you. And the people who care about you often are never appreciated.
I feel selfish putting myself in that second category sometimes. I think it is a truth that occurs with everyone, in many different situations. I can definitely see where it affects my own life, but where I affect others is completely subjective. And how could we really ever tell if we're best caring for someone? Or what love is? Those are all too big of questions.
School is moving fabulously, started this week and already I can sort of feel out the rest of the year. I have a glimpse at some nice things, but there is always that feeling of searching for the light at the end of the tunnel. For now, it seems pretty far away. However, going to College Corps and working on different items in general has put me in the mode of anticipation.
However, I don't feel that's readily important. I've always managed my life in a manner most becoming [or at least I hope...] and thus school is the background noise to what I want to call "real life." I have hung out with people for as many days as possible, and have started taking classes again [yoga, and a new belly dancing thing that I think I will continue] while also thinking on life in general. I've started reading Pablo Neruda again, after hearing a depressing announcement about my last math teacher. Anyway.
I can't understand why I feel so strange. It's one of those selfish things, I'm sure of it - thinking that people are getting things that I am not. I don't know what I'm jealous of... nor do I have a clear understanding of what those things are. I just feel strangely hollow, like I want for someone or something to fill this space for me.
Maybe I should put up advertisements.

Extra Hairballs

I feel like magic and anxiety and annoyance and laughter. Yes, all at once.
There's a cluster of emotions falling in at the end of the year. The idea that maybe I should branch out and improve my life, the feeling that maybe I want to embrace something old... the classic feeling of frustration as teachers scramble to put in everything at the last minute. I am working towards the end of the year, which is in 4 days [not counting weekends] and I really feel like I need to police everyone again. And again. And again.
I like the idea of closure right now; it feels good to say that there's an end to these clubs (at least until needing to help them again) and that there's an end to the tests and the projects and the winding road of grade hassles [still need to talk about that with some teachers] Yet, at the same time, there's this grating nervousness that 'maybe I didn't do so well this year' or 'maybe I'm not good enough for this college' or 'maybe this' and 'maybe that.'
And, at the end of it all, I just feel like school has taken up way too much of my life. I know that I'm going to "school" in the summer, but learning has never been the problem for me. It's the fact that school itself is an oppressive environment for creativity/personal enjoyment. It's wonderful to have people around you and to be struggling together and whatnot... but how long do we have to struggle for things that are not ours? I really don't care about many of the classes I'm taking [thankfully, next year, most of those classes are gone].
I want to learn to be me in many ways; I want to work out and make my body what I want it to be, I want to learn what I am personally by exploration... but all of these things seem so lofty, right? I feel like magic sometimes when I discover how much has changed even in the last 3 months. I realize that I was completely different by going through my journal entries and remembering... I am notorious for record-keeping.
My "lofty goals" became something like:
- Purge room of unnecessary stuff
- Revisit knitting
- Write!
- Work out
- Play video games
And other things that are possibly too boring. Mundanities really do make the world 'real.'
In the end, this summer I really am going to be able to rediscover myself - if I could do some soul-searching in the brief period since Heathy left [April], then I can definitely secure myself over free time.
My Triple Threat Plan will pan out!

Rant About Emotions #1

I learned something today in yoga (as I often do) and it really turned the corner on my ideas [and also made me a little more worried about myself]. So, I am taking this time to process said emotions. Take 1.
I learned that fear is the core of all negative emotions.
It goes... Hate : Anger : Sorrow : Fear... according to my yoga teacher. In order to find the next meaning, you must peel away one. I feel that I have only barely peeled away the idea of hate from my mind. I am much more in love with the world than I was a long while ago. I am still deep in the process of taking away my anger - and that's what is really getting to me.
Today I had an outburst unlike [or maybe too like] the normal days. Often enough I get really near tears and stuff with these crazy problems etc. (yeah, I'm not manly) and I work it out some other way. But today was like a tirade against my dad when working on math homework [like the old days] It was really upsetting to me because I thought that I had at least calmed down from yoga class... but maybe it just brought these feelings up.
My yoga teacher says that we live so comfortably with fear that it immediately translates into something else and we don't even process it as fear anymore. I just... I can't believe that I did that. I feel disgusting. I should probably apologize, but I don't know how much that would absolve me. I just thought... I don't know. I feel like I just set myself back many steps - but maybe it just takes a long time for this process to go.
I've decided that I will learn to be closer to my own spirit over the summer. Probably by exploring emotions and religion fundamentally [the gritty stuff will probably be to move it, not apologize]
I will live. I just got really shocked today. That's all.

If you enjoyed this lesson from yoga, read about another one I took away much later: living in the moment.

Touch My Body - Mariah Carey

This song is so addictive; I don't know why exactly... [maybe it was the Youtube reference]
Lately... I don't know.
Emotionally, I've been hiccuping along at a steady pace. I get extremely angry sometimes, and for reasons that seem completely stupid (such as physics homework) and yet, overall, I feel quite content in my life. Stressed? Sure. Tired? Definitely. But I have a lot going for me too. I found a way to have mango smoothies year round and discovered the secrets of healthy milkshake/ice cream yogurts. I don't have heavy cramping like last night. I've been feeling good about my clothing all week. And (despite the fact that Milda and I totally trashed our high school experiences) I am realizing that I will leave this place soon enough. There are people here that I like, and people that are leaving who I want to keep in contact with. I will leave; they will leave; we will all leave and meet up in the next interesting place. I will find some more writing in my life.
I think that these tests will get done, the school year will be done, and the next thing I know I'll be in New York.