A New Year

What does it mean to be alive?

It means your bare feet on slippery moss, taking a leap on a waterfall day.  It means flying over clouds to see mountain peaks that swell like your heart.  It means falling slowly.   It means saying I missed you instead of hello and see you later instead of goodbye.  It means dancing when the beat is alive.  The music is a heartbeat moving through a sea of faces, because the world fits on a dance floor.  It means feeling like home is not a place, it’s a person.  The heartbeat made a tide.  The tide made the ocean.  The ocean made me whole.

God is not a person, He is a power, my four year old self whispers quietly in my ear and I realize the Power is everywhere.

I waited in an airport.  I waited in a car. I waited in a waiting room.  I waited for a bus.  I waited for love.  I waited for an answer.  I waited for help.  I waited for a call.  I waited online.  I waited offline.  I signed in, I signed out.  I waited to feel like myself again.  I waited for results.  I waited for strength.   I waited for you.

I held you in my arms and I had to put you back on the filthy ground.  Your eyes stare into my soul with deep sadness and deep persistence.  You are removed.  You have stories that pinch tears out of my eyes and when it rains on a cold winter’s day as I step off the plane I breathe a sigh of relief.   I want you to know you didn’t make me cry, you just opened my eyes.

The Aare carried me.  My body became part of it as the river embraced me and carried me gently.  I could still resist but I didn’t have to try.  I didn’t want to try.  I watched the trees pass by and the blue periwinkle sky and I said to myself, this is what surrender means.

And I said to myself the other night, this is what grief means.  So I’m letting you go, because I don’t want to wallow in the wonder of 2011.  Thank you, dear year, for bringing me life.  Thank you for infusing beauty in my veins so that it lights up my skin.  Thank you for the wooden spiritual centers, for the family love, for the grief, for keeping Hapi safe in Heaven, thank you for the ocean, thank you for education, thank you for Kenya, thank you for kiwis, thank you for good food and good friends and good times. 

I’m letting you go because I love you so.
And I’m letting you in because you asked so nicely.
May the love, joy, and peace dwell within as always
and may you have the courage to find it in the dark.
And finally, may you always feel the water as it falls
like a cascade of memories, dreams, and present moments
Mountains, dares, and periwinkle skies,
like a river rapid rush of absolute cleansing perfection.

Exams, Etc.

It has been a while since I posted, and I suppose it's because I have been studying at all hours of day and night, my head buried in stacks of books, dutifully re-writing notes, and preparing.  Ha.  Well there was a little of that going on, but also some chill days, socializing, getting out into Kelowna, shopping, cooking, and all that other stuff that constitutes real life.  

I have often wondered what this "study till you drop" mentality is preparing us for.  I say, nothing!   So I have taken some alternative approaches to studying for finals  One of my favorites is covering the wall in blank paper, taking some bright felt pens, and making a masterpiece of notes.   The picture demonstrates part of my wall-decorating, imagine it from floor to ceiling, covering the entire door. I don't what it is about this technique that appeals to me, the standing and writing (like a teacher), the colours, working toward a goal...I don't know.  But I have the amazing Anwen from Wales to thank for the idea!

So I suppose everyone has their nuanced approaches to studying that works for them.  Some days I long for the even more radical approaches of no test taking at all...but this is real life, I guess.

Lately I have been trying to evaluate whether or not I am fully happy here.  Most days I am content. I like my window to the mountains, I love my roommate to the max, I have good friends who I make Sunday dinners with, I have interesting classes with inspiring profs.  But what is missing?  I don’t really feel part of a community.  It is definitely going to take a measure of warming up to somewhere besides Pearson.  Although I hate to admit it, sometimes I feel a bit of anger towards an education that set such a high standard  before.  Of course I am more grateful than anything, but sometimes it feels like nothing will ever compare.

In the end, I am trusting the “first is the worst” theory and trying to imagine all the wonderful things that are in store for me next term.  My go global application to New Zealand, my amazing courses (Gender studies, English, Anthro, and International Politics), new friends to meet, visiting Pearson, spring-time...and doing my yoga teacher training in the summer!     I am really looking forward to being home, cooking delicious food, and being with loved ones.  Despite a looming wisdom teeth removal I think it is going to be a relaxing and lovely break.

In other news, I have been spending some wonderful quality time with Camille and we discovered the absolutely DELICIOUS lahksa soup they serve at a Malaysian cafe in Kelowna called The Mad Mango.  It is sooooo good.


I wish you all the best for whatever you do this month and so much joy, peace, and love for the coming year.    Thank you so much for taking the time to read my blog – big hugs to you!

Sarah Kay

I think this woman is AMAZING.

University Lessons

I have four more days of classes.  I don't know why that is so hard to believe, but I'm starting to feel pretty relieved!   Sure, there are also four more exams to do, but they will pass as well.  Everything passes.

It's been quite a wonderful time, this first term.  I find that when I transition to a new place often the first little while is happy and shiny.  So I'm hoping I can maintain this stability going forward, I think I'll be all right.  I've been so blessed here.  Today the sun came out again.  

If I could list the lessons I've started to learn since coming here, this would be it:

1) In the real world, real people do do drugs and alcohol frequently.  It doesn't mean you have to partake.

2) Having your own room is amazing.  Even though the occasional loneliness can make a home there too.

3) While skype is nice, it just really isn't enough.  But you gotta make do.

4) Friendships don't fade after you leave Pearson.  You just pick up where you left off.

5) It's important to meet new people too, especially at Sunday family dinners, those are the best.  Mmm.

6) Don't choose 8am classes, 3 times a week.  Biology isn't worth it.

7) Poetry is a good release.

8) Sometimes you have to let life take the lead and just nod and follow.

9) The best part of dancing is that it requires not thinking.

10) If you ask nicely, usually you will get what you want.

Sky and I

Another one of my many midnight poems.
--


A blue sky beckons,
And I follow her. I follow her up
And away. We danced together,
Her and I, we passed the moon and
Her glimmering white gown, and we
Nodded to the sun with her gleaming
Golden skirt and we did pirouettes on tippy
toes. We floated along clouds and the
Music of the rain pounds,
In between songs I asked her questions
Of what we are doing here, and Twilight
Stepped in and said to me in a whisper that
everything, is connected. He tells me
that all is well and that we are protected.
And so I hold his hand in the pale light
Of morning and I gaze deep into his
Mysterious mournful depths and I say
Thank you.

So we carried on, Sky and I,
We twirled until the Light of Day
Arrived and I asked her why we fear
The dark. She was so wise, and she
Said we fear what we do not want
To accept and what we are unsure of.
Fear, then, is just the beginnings
of Love. Then she took my hand and
Spun me in circles and we laughed
And laughed. Sky wanted to fly
Somewhere else so I left the
Ball and we entered a void.

We met the blackness and
Were consumed by the noise.
Ever since a child I have been
Mystified and afraid of this.
And so we were absorbed, we
Became nothingness and in the
Stark silence I asked where we
Were, and Sky told me we were
In light, with our eyes closed.

Suddenly flashes of lightning
So I am with Sky again and
This time she is singing herself
A lullaby and before I know it
We are in the presence of Star
And I am blinded by her brilliance.
She is so sharp that she knows
My mind already and she has read
My deepest darkest secret. She says,
"Why are you afraid to be your true self?
Those that judge will never see you."

So I begin to plummet because her
Brightness has shone a light into
My soul. I am falling and Sky is too
She is tumbling down in Clouds of grey
And swirling mist and clenched fists and
I want to scream
But I am falling so fast that I dream
Feel my body drifting on
Gentle Breeze and the world is coming
Leaning closer and I don't want
To say goodbye to Sky, she has
Been so lovely, so kind, so wry.
She has been a gracious host and
I will never forget her soft wings
We coast for one last breath,
Until I land.
Cushioning my fall, she holds me.
I gently tumble back to earth
Encircled in Sky's embrace
And she says one last thing to me,
Her kind and gentle face,



I am with you always
Just look up.

Mirrorless Monday

So today as I walked into the women's bathroom in one of the buildings on campus I was taken aback.  Not because of something disgusting or horrific, but because someone had covered the huge mirror with paper and written messages like "You have so many gifts,"  "Beauty is not perfection," and all these other feel-good messages!   It was so lovely.  So what did I do?  Well keep in mind I'm a bit obsessed with inspirational quotes so I pulled out my handy dandy pink highlighter and wrote some more messages.

What a unique, creative, and important idea.

We have some really interesting conversations in my gender and women's studies class.  We talked today about how language is embedded in gender, for example: women or people referring to humanity as "man," and terms like "policeman."   Also did you know that pink used to be associated with baby boys, until the 1940s when women wanted to reclaim it....so now look at what happened!   I am beginning to see how gender is so intrinsic to our daily lives, in so many ways!

This picture is from our women's link at One World 2010 (a show Pearson College puts on every year).  We tied together Maya Angelou's poem, "Still I Rise" with Mulu's story of the status of women in Africa, with Aneke's story of First Nations women.

Here is the beautiful poem,

Still I Rise 


You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise. 

Comptine d'un Autre Ete

Something about this piece of music stirs my very being.    When I hear it I think of my dear friend Zahida playing it for me when I was very sad, I think of my dear friend Belen playing it beautifully in the Max Bell, I think of my dear house-mate Pete playing it in the dayroom, I think of walking through a forest by a lake, I think of gazing out of a foggy bus window, I think of watching the world go by as one is lost in reveries.  It is so touching.  Melancholy yet hopeful.  Reflective and contemplative.  It makes me want to cry and laugh and smile and just live.

Transitions

Fall has faded, winter has floated down and snowflakes cover my campus.  Winter arrived suddenly and with passion, we have about a foot of snow on the ground and tonight my dear friend Camille and I sat in the silence and contemplated the universe.  There is a magic about snow.  As Camille says, "Nothing looks real!"

There is also a magic to life.  I don't know what it is, it is unseen.  There is more to life than what meets the eye.

Kule - How Kenya Opened my Eyes

This blog was partially inspired by my awe-inspiring experience in the summer of 2011 ,when I travelled to Kenya with the Kule organization.  Kule is directed by my awe-inspiring teacher, Geoffrey Tindyebwa (at Pearson College). The trip was phenomenal.  It was a perfectly balanced mix of service, education, fun, cultural exchange, growth, and friendship.

 I did not know what to expect before leaving my comfortable life in Canada, but before I knew it, I was being tossed around like a popcorn kernel in the back of a bus on a dusty road in rural Kenya, surrounded by  wonderful people.  All of a sudden, I was in front of 40 ten year olds trying to teach them something they didn't already know (which proved difficult).  I had to resort to explaining what a lobster was in an attempt to describe fishing on the east coast of Canada.   I was playing with children on a huge field,  I was at a bustling market, I was lifting heavy bags of cow bedding,   I was holding hands with disabled ladies at Mother Teresa's home, I was feeding animals and observing elephants.  Before I knew it, I was witnessing some of the most profound beauty and indefatigable human spirit in the 2nd largest slum in Africa.  I was holding Rose's hand as she showed me down the Kibera roads covered in garbage, excrement, and filth.  I was holding her hand as she told me she wanted to be a lawyer and go to university. I was sitting next to her as women around me discussed how they had been raped.

It was eye-opening to say the least.  One of the biggest ways I found myself staring at the hard cold truth, was the response I received whenever I talked about starting university in September.  It was almost as though telling people this seemingly ordinary fact garnered a round of applause.  People told me I was blessed. People told me this was a gift of God, this education.  People told me I would live a good life if I studied hard at university.

I am ashamed to say I never really appreciated the opportunity to attend university. I didn't really value it because it was always meant to be.  I knew I was going to go to university somewhere.  My foolish worries about not having a closet seemed pathetic in comparison to visiting an orphanage in Murang'a where the children had no pillows and slept 10 to a room.

I know it sounds cliche to say, "I went to Africa and it changed my life,"  and I was reluctant to participate in the sort of volontourism that runs rampant today.  I didn't want to travel as some wealthy westerner trying to "fix" people because the truth was, everyone I met in Kenya was much happier than the average Canadian.  They had hardly anything, but they were happier.  They lived together, they relied on one another, they had a strong faith, and they worked hard.  I do not want to romanticize their lives because obviously they face immense challenges like lack of clean water, food, and just aching poverty.   But as I stared out the window mesmerized by the incredible rift valley, all of my ideas of "right and wrong" flew out the window with my breath.

I vowed to myself after a day of glimpsing the sadness in the eyes of one young woman at the local high school, as we talked about scholarships (and the one I had been graciously given), that I would never take my university education for granted. I would learn here on behalf of all those beautiful faces that never could.  I would learn here because I have a duty to try my best because I have been given the world.   That might sound arrogant or weird or cheesy again, but once I saw the reality of how privileged we are in Canada, I couldn't return to the consumerist self-absorbed culture we were accustomed to.

I felt helpless sometimes in Kenya.  I didn't feel like I was doing anything there and couldn't understand how I was contributing.  Then the art teacher at Pearson, Jecton, said something profound and it helped:  he said, that just by visiting these people, we had brought them a kind of international experience.  There's no saying how many  of them will make it past the borders of their country, their province, or their town.  Our presence helped to break down some stereotypes (like white people are capable of physical labour), and in turn we learned that starving children in Africa is a stereotype our media has proliferated. I did not see a single bloated belly malnourished stick child during my entire time.

Maybe this all still sounds cheesy and hopelessly romantic, but I hope that after this experience I can continue to feel connected to all people, everywhere.  We are truly a human family, depending on each other.

Here is a link to a video my very talented friend Niklas made while on our trip....it takes a long time to load but hopefully you'll get a glimpse of our time there:   http://dl.dropbox.com/u/18506892/Kenya%20KULE%202011%20-%20720p.mov

Hold me, Rock me

I sang this song in my high school choir and came across a lovely rendition done by another choir and it brought back some happy memories.  Enjoy!  It's a beautiful song.

Homecoming

Coming home is like waking up in the morning to sunlight streaming through soft blinds and then realizing you have nothing to do and no where to go, so you just breathe in morning.   Coming home is lingering in the kitchen at 12:30am eating seaweed or yogurt or whatever you desire because there's no one who will judge you for what you are doing.  Coming home is walking in the oceans of people at Commercial skytrain station and feeling perfectly at ease or watching west broadway roll lazily by as you stare out on a warm autumn day.  It is realizing how beautiful this place is in  the golden haze before dusk and driving with people you love until night whispers a  lullaby in your ear.

Bliss, Love, Wisdom

If I could learn to treat triumph and disaster the same, then I would find bliss.
- Kathie Lee Gifford

Let your love be like the misty rains, coming softly, but flooding the river.
~Malagasy Proverb

Anyone can carry his burden, however hard, until nightfall. Anyone can do his work, however hard, for one day. Anyone can live sweetly, patiently, lovingly, purely, till the sun goes down. And this is all life really means. 
~Robert Louis Stevenson

The Prophet

Kahlil Gibran was nothing short of a genius.  A poet, an artist, a philosopher....his many works have been translated into countless languages touching people worldwide for several decades after his death.  One of my all time favorite books is The Prophet by Gibran.  Here is one of the most wonderful passages ever written, in my humble opinion: 

The Prophet on Self Knowledge
by Kahlil Gibran

And a man said, speak to us of Self-Knowledge.
And he answered saying:
Your hearts know in silence the secrets of the days and the nights.
But your ears thirst for the sound of your heart's knowledge.
You would know in words that which you have always known in thought.
You would touch with your fingers the naked body of your dreams.

And it is well you should.
The hidden well-spring of your soul must needs rise and run murmuring to the sea;
And the treasure of your infinite depths would be revealed to your eyes.
But let there be no scales to weigh your unknown treasure;
And seek not the depths of your knowledge with staff or sounding line.
For self is a sea boundless and measureless.

Say not, "I have found the truth," but rather, "I have found a truth."
Say not, "I have found the path of the soul." Say rather, "I have met the soul walking upon my path."
For the soul walks upon all paths.
The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed.
The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.

Dog Days Continue

So I have a wonderful friend named Julie, who I first met because she stalked me on the internet.  Haha maybe not stalked, but was so deeply interested in UWC that she took measures to get in touch with me.  So this is getting back at her!  Well she was accepted, thank goodness, and I had the great fortune of getting to see her wide smile many days last year.  I miss her very much so here is a song that reminds me of her....in fact she is the first one who told me about this wonderful song. 

Go Florence! Go Julie!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iMuCME6Oewk&ob=av2n (this link seems to have better sound than the video below....)

What a performance.

This is her latest single and I LOVE IT!  I also love this music video, especially her red dress and when she spins.  Oh so amazing.

Kale Chips = AMAZING.

So for our weekly Sunday dinners, we had kale chips as a side dish yesterday!  It was seriously delish.  I think you will very much enjoy not only the health benefits (kale is a wonder food!) but also the melt in your mouth scrum-diddly-umptiousness.

Ingredients:
- Bunch of Kale
- Salt, pepper, chili flakes if you like it hot
- Optional curry powder (I used Moroccan)
- 1 tbsp Balsamic vinegar or other kind of vinegar
- 1 tbsp olive oil

How to:


1. Wash and rip leaves off kale, leaving out the stalk and the rough parts near the center.  Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2.  Place kale in a baking tray, preferably only one layer, and mix with olive oil and vinegar.

3.  Bake in oven for approx 15-20 minute, until crispy.

4.  Season to taste.  You may also like to include lime juice, lemon, or anything your imagination desires!

(Adapted from Smitten Kitchen)

Sunday night dinners are my favorite, they are a time to bond, a time to enjoy wholesome home-cooked food, a time to relax, a time to laugh, a time to be with friends, a time to try something new, a time to put away the books while taking out the dishes.  I am finding that I am a pretty decent cook!

Oh university traditions.

Is First Year the Worst Year?

Maybe I am blogging far too frequently.  Anyways.  Wondering your opinion on the first year at university being the most difficult?  Does it get better?  Please say yes!

A Sacred Place

I think Sikh temples everywhere are, essentially, the same. You are bound to find some kid or probably several, wailing for attention from the bottom of their lungs. You will probably see women in brightly coloured suits gossiping. Most likely there will be some old woman hobbling around demanding things. You will see covered heads, and the aroma of wafting spices will greet you like an old friend. You will taste tradition and you will sit at a table, just like the Gurus imagined, beggar and king together.

Underneath those vivid colours swirling in paths of social spheres, or those deep hushed voices, or the kids screaming, you find something more. It will not seem apparent at first, because the Gurdwara is a place of chaos. But in chaos there is the most creation. Disorganization does not mean confusion. Look deeper. You will see devotion. You will see community. You will see love.

Languages merge at this crossroads of culture. In the cloakroom people will hug and greet in English or Punjabi. Young women may wear lululemon pants and scarves on their heads, or they might be dressed in the traditional salwaar kameez and know all the words to familiar prayers. We will talk about how annoying Indian parents can be about dating, or we will talk about God. There are screens up for translation, but tonight there is only a picture of the Golden Temple all lit up by Diwali fireworks. There is no need for translation in the universal language of Light.

Tonight I stood outside of that sacred place that I have been coming to since I was a baby. I stood outside on a cold Autumn night, surrounded by brown faces that were unfamiliar. I stood staring with them, up into the sky, watching as the Heavens exploded into brilliance. Lights burst into amazing displays, firecrackers make little babies cry, and sparklers and candles light up the darkness. I watch a three year old curly headed Indo-Canadian girl holding a sparkler and marvelling at the world. And in that moment, there is no other way to describe it, I felt like I belonged. I was at home.

Image from: http://vedicodyssey.com/spiritualadventures/tag/diwali-celebrations-at-golden-temple/

More Poetry on the Moment (unedited)

Marley is telling me to get up and stand up.
Sometimes I just want to curl into a tiny ball and wait for a rescue.
I want to be that damsel in distress, and wallow in salty tear bathwater.
And then I think of all those brave women out there
Who would die for the chance to curl into a ball in my world
Would die to be able to attend lectures I can choose to skip
Would die for a chance to open my books and read and read and read and read and read and read and read

Then all of a sudden I wake up from this trance and I dance
For them. I dance in this privileged place.  I open up the clouds and let the rain pour
And as the earth cries with me I can feel her chocolate smooth skin
 Holding my hand, and I glance at her ripped dress.
Her bed lacking a pillow.  I glimpse at my own bed with seven.
And for each of these blessings that somehow  were sent to me
I send a wish that life will send her a parcel of luck, of hope, of love.
I pray she will be treasured and not exploited.  That she gets the chance
To make her dreams come alive, that she is treated fairly, that she has enough
To eat.  Somewhere warm to sleep.  I pray that she gets to live and be a child.

Someday we will float together on a cloud, dear one.
You and I will hold hands again in a world that is equal and we will cry
Once more.  Not for your loss or my gain or my loss and your gain.  We
will weep because at last it is apparent that no matter the colour of our
skin or where we come from or the way we pronounce love, our hearts
beat in time to a melody that fills me from my toes to fingertips.
As the sun rays bounce of your eyelids I will smile
And know that everything is going to be okay.


* For Rose and Sara

Low (Moods and Marks)

My french teacher in high school once told me getting university marks at first feels like a "slap in the face."  It actually feels more like a full on fist fight.  

I just received my marks back for my first two assignments.   Ladies and gentlemen - they were NOT a pretty sight!! Actually more like a crime scene, bloody and ugly.

I am one of those people who pretends not to take my grades too seriously (and usually I don't) but today I full on wept. WHO CRIES after a bad mark?  Well I do, apparently.

This sucks.  Today I don't like university or hard marking TAs.

Breathing's Just a Rhythm

Regina Spektor is a musical genius.  Her music resonates.

At the moment there is a lot going on for me and for those around me, school-wise and personally, so this song is for all those friends who are having a rough time.  Give it some time and we'll be okay!

Love love love....

This is a clip from Youtube of Regina at Glastonbury.

Wonderings

Did I mention I live with the best suite-mate ever? The lovely Camille...  We have already had so many great times together, in the less than 2 months we have been co-habitants of this beautiful space.   We have tea, we chat, we listen to music, we laugh, we dance.   It makes me wonder whether being roommates first, friends second ,is a better set up than choosing to live with friends you have known for a long time.

What makes roommates work?  I think it is a happy recipe of understanding, compassion, listening, patience, boundaries, flexibility.   We have started a tradition, Camille and I, with some close friends, of Sunday night dinners.  We cook different meals together and have some time to let go. 

At my old school, Pearson College, living with 3 other girls from 3 other continents (IN ONE ROOM) was a constant challenge and joy.  Pearson was often called a big educational experiment because it pushes us so far out of our comfort zones.   Of course that leads to some immense growth and learning.

Speaking of Pearson, we had the most amazing multi-faith spiritual centre.  It was built by students out of local wood, 10 years ago.   It has a fascinating design and it overlooks a brilliant blue bay and is nestled amidst arbutus trees and lovely evergreens.  Few places are so beautiful in which to ponder....and even though the spiritual centre here is not quite so spectacular, I had some great contemplative moments there.  As students many of us are at a crossroads in our journeys, spiritual or otherwise. Having a moment to reflect in whatever way fits for us is critical to developing some much needed peace.  Do you think our exam results would be different if we meditated on a positive mark beforehand? 

spiritual centre at Pearson College

On a completely different note, it was a rough day.   It all spurred from being reprimanded by a prof for writing too much on an assignment.   This may seem like a trivial thing.  What it triggered was a long time history of overachievement and the judgement that comes along with that.  Pearson sort of remedied all those feelings before, since it was a school made of overachievers.   What a weird complex that word carries....It makes it seem like a crime, overachieving.  As if we try to hard, pretend to know everything, that we are egotistical young people who are involved in everything, we do more because we feel inadequate.

I don’t know if any of that is true.   What I do know is this:  when I raise my hand I am aware of 150 and what they think of me.  I feel self-conscious about participating in class.   I feel like the annoying girl with her hand in the air.  I don’t feel like I fit in and I desperately miss the academic engagement that was so every day in my last school.  Maybe I have been spoiled (I mean, who gets to study marine science in a floating building with 9 other people?).  

Do we conform to what we think we should be or do we dance to the beat of our own drum?  Do we take the opportunity to discover our most true self or do we take the path of least resistance?  Why do people come to university, anyway?

What About School, Emmy?

So recently I was looking over my blog which is supposed to be about university - and realized I have posted very little about my actual academic life!  Maybe that says a lot about what I believe to be my "education" or maybe it just means I get easily side-tracked about other tidbits happening and forget my own title of blog.

Here's a short blurb on how academic life is then.   I have my first midterm in less than 30 minutes and I love how I am writing a blog entry instead of cramming. It is for earth science and despite a bit of anxiety, I feel quite okay about it.  It’s just a piece of paper.  It’s just a piece of paper. 

My classes in general are quite spectacular.  I especially love English, Gender Studies, and Sociology.  We have really stimulating debates in sociology, fascinating discussions in both English and GWST and I love how everything overlaps!  Therefore I can sound smart by just repeating something one prof said to another!  Haha.

Well Autumn is surely in the air and the partying has died down a bit.  People are getting their heads down to work and I suppose that is a positive thing.   It’s all about the balance right?

Better go and do a last minute review.

Wish me luck!

Mountain Glory

Thanksgiving this year was a bit different and wonderfully special.  I trekked up to Lake Louise, Alberta with my dear friend Emily to a lodge way off the grid, on the edge of a pale perwinkle lake, nestled in the Rocky Mountains in the evergreen forest. 

 There is beauty in the night silence that lingers on your tongue.  There is a crispness to the air at 2000 meters.  There is a joy in the bouncy earth while hiking with friends.  There is a wonder to feeling like someone knows your soul.  There is a kindness when you realize  you are not alone, even if you are.  There is a comfort in the wind that howls unobstructed.  There is a freedom in the rocks under your shoes.  There is a love that is divine when you are somewhere beautiful with beautiful people.

Please send me more experiences like this.  Please grant me the peace to find this beauty again in places not nearly as spectacular. 

 

Thank you:
- for family
- for friends
- for beautiful experiences
- for amazing places
- for an education
- for a lovely place to live
- for books
- for music
- for skies and trees and butterflies
- for teachers
- for yoga
- for dancing and singing
- for unconditional love