It's so bright out before I start digging that, at first, I always try to avoid it. The world is a world of distraction for she who desires to avoid her work. But it's inevitable; it's necessary. So I begin to dig, a discouraging number of blind hacks into the Rock of Pages until I finally catch a glimpse of a tiny glimmer—hope. So I dig faster, this time with more precision. I accidentally slip and my pick lands in an unexpected chapter. A shimmer of a different colour. What luck! I widen the circumference of my tunnel. As I get deeper and deeper into the rock, an array of hidden gems become known to me. I've become obsessive in my digging. The brightness that I left behind me long ago without noticing could not compare with the shimmering jewels now illuminating my mind. I can't stop. The desire for more pulses through my entire body. I feel like I'm going to explode. The ring of my pick pounds in my head nearly drowning out the unfortunate announcement: Ten minutes until the library closes.
Is research like this for everybody?
So....I have this tendency to overdramatize everything. Sometimes this plays out in my actual behavior and activities (i.e. I dance alone in abandoned fields, travel to Ireland and make an Irish couple fall in love with me, perform with my British a cappella group in Scotland and Germany, convince my apartment mates to go cliff jumping or swimming in our underwear in the ocean at midnight, etc) but sometimes my life is relatively normal so I have to overdramatize it in the way I understand it and communicate it. It's true, that opening paragraph is merely my reflection on a long night researching in the library, but you know what? It really was as cool as that paragraph makes it sound.
I'm in this really neat place at school right now where everything I'm learning and writing (or at least the things I'm dedicating most of my time to) is going towards what I want to do with my life after I graduate ["What? You've figured out what you want to do with your life?" you ask. Why yes, I have. And I'd love to chat with you about it if you want to hear more]. I'm combining all that love of learning that I've had since I was pretty little with the passion of understanding that I'm finally going to be doing something about it. I won't just have a collection of pretty facts and ideas when I'm done with this. I'll have a quiver full of arrows that will be useful as I head into battle (please excuse my excessive use of unrelated metaphors tonight. Sometimes I just think that metaphors are the only ways to get a hold of the strange plethora of worms wiggling around in my head.......ew).
Well, anyhow, I think this is going to be a short post tonight. I liked the digging metaphor that came to me while I was being sucked into the tunnel of my book at the library so I thought I'd share. Especially since I have this horrible tendency to think that I'm only supposed to write blog posts when cool stuff happens to me. Blog posts are snap shots of the thoughts and ideas and activities that constitute my life, right? And put simply, nobody takes a snap shot of a girl in an oversized college hoodie, wide-eyed and gaping at a boring-looking paperback book sitting at a little cubby in a run-of-the-mill reference room. But, you know what? Maybe they should. Because maybe it's those moments that make life feel worth-living. Maybe it's in those seemingly unglamorous moments that your life changes and your heart explodes with feelings that seep into your entire body and remind you that you're alive. Maybe every once in a while we need to put down the instagram filter and let those moments of deep experience colour themselves. Maybe, just maybe, that's what makes something #Beautiful
Monday, September 23, 2013
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Whirl·wind
Whirl·wind, n
[hwurl-wind, wurl-]
2. transf. and fig. Something rushing impetuously like a whirlwind ... a confused and tumultuous process or condition (OED).
I thought I would start this post off with a definition just so we're all on the same page when I describe this past month as a whirlwind. I thought maybe I could keep y'all updated on my Fringe adventure. A post a week? Not terribly bushy tailed, am I right? Well, obviously I didn't write any posts during our run. Why is that? you ask. Because, dear reader, because I didn't even have enough extra time nor brain power to do basic things like eat normally or sleep. So much has happened since the last time I posted that I nearly don't believe it happened. But alas, I have pictures to prove it. So for today's post I'm going to give you a whirlwind review of my past month. With pictures.
Up at 9am. Sing til lunch. Eat. Sing til dinner. Eat. Sing til midnight. Sleep. Repeat. This was week one. We sang so many songs, so many times. But I was with my girls again. And therefore all was right and good in the world.
Week 2: The Beginning of shows (and other shenanigans)
A particularly exciting/horrible/exhilarating/exhausting/necessary/annoying/wonderful
activity that we had to do every day was busking. Every morning, we would journey to the Royal Mile, the High Street (city centre) in Edinburgh, and fight tooth and nail (jokes) with other performers for slots on stages like the one pictured here. Once on stage, we would yell and sing and stomp and dance and try to convince the unknowing civilians passing by to stop, listen to us, take a flyer, and then come to our show at 4:30 (just around the corner!). Some days this was really fun. Other days it would rain or be freezing and it was less fun.
Thankfully, though, we would always get a nice break for lunch to relieve us of the strains of busking. Many of the days, I journeyed over to the University of Edinburgh and enjoyed lunch with my lovely friends on the grassy quad.
Towards the end of week 2, we Pinkies found ourselves traveling across the street from C Venues to the National Museum of Scotland. We, along with several other companies performing at C Venues, were to present a shortened version of our shows for an audience of just about 1,000 people at a Museum After Hours event. Super cool, right? While we were at the museum doing a test run a couple days before the show, we met Nick, the chap nearly featured in this here photo, who was the manager of C Venues. He explained to us that he was still looking for a compère (i.e. MC, announcer, all that jazz) for the event and asked if we knew anyone who could do the job. I, for some reason, was not paying attention when he was explaining this to the group, but I was suddenly pulled into the conversation when my girls started pointing to me and pushing me towards Nick. I was hired! That's right, this random little American girl was the announcer for a huge Fringe event at the National Museum of SCOTLAND. Yah, that makes sense.
Actually, it didn't make any sense, but it was a blast. The night was a huge success! All the acts were fabulous and the announcer was the highlight of the evening. Ha! Jokes. But people did seem to like me. They actually clapped when I came on stage to announce things AND laughed when I made jokes. What a party! It really was so much fun. I especially loved getting to know the C Venues staff and museum staff. [Side plug, if you ever go to Edinburgh, you have to go to this museum. It's so unbelievably cool. Oh, and say hi to Craig the museum manager for me. He's my pal].
To thank me for my exceptional compèreing (ha), Nick made me an honorary CIP (VIP but at C Venues). I got to get discounts on basically everything, but the coolest part was just having an official looking lanyard to wear around the theater. Yah, I was kinda a big deal. Well, ok not really. But I did have lots of friends at the theater after the Museum night who were always excited to see me which made week three even better than week two.
And then finally it was our last day. Last day busking on the Mile. Our last show in Edinburgh. We went crazy. We dressed up from head to toe in pink and danced up and down the Mile like fools trying to get people to come. I regrettably do not have any good pictures of our entire ensembles, but trust me when I say we were magnificent.
Our final show was amazing. We couldn't have asked for a better way to end our run. We had such a full, engaging audience and we were all on the top of our game (despite the fact that we had lost 2 members since the beginning of our run and multiple girls had been losing their voices). It all came together in that moment of brilliance, and I wouldn't trade that feeling I experienced at the end of our show for anything in the world. As I held the hands of the girls next to me and they held the hands next to them and we took our final bow, together, I knew in that moment a depth of happiness that nearly made my heart burst. Sounds incredible, right? Oh but wait, it's not finished yet.
So, yah. Our last show in Edinburgh was on a Friday. We had a house party and went out dancing on Friday night. Saturday morning we woke up and flew to Berlin. (Nbd). In Berlin, we were picked up in the airport by a few of the festival staff. They drove us directly to the site of Chor Open Stage Air Festival, the huge all day music festival for which we were headlining. That's right. We weren't just performing, we were HEADLINING. As in, we were actually a big deal, the grand finale, if you will.
They set us up in a nice big room with a lofted bed and magical couch and a shower where we could relax and prepare ourselves for the evening. We waited out the day, eating sausages and listening to other German music groups. It was wonderful.
Then the time came for which everyone had been waiting for all day: it was time for us to perform. When we came on stage, there erupted a thunderous applause from the hundreds and hundreds of unbelievably enthusiastic audience members. We had to wait minutes between each of our songs until the people would stop clapping. That doesn't seem like a very long time, but the average clap between songs usually lasts about 20 seconds, if that. We had to wait several minutes between every single song! And when I got up to give a little speech (to an audience of Germans. Of whom maybe half actually understood me), they laughed so enthusiastically and clapped so hard you'd think I was announcing that they won the lottery. I was blown away by their reception of us. I had so much fun that night.
And it doesn't even end there! The next day we woke up for a quick rehearsal during which we learned a new song that we would be preforming that afternoon with a German a cappella group called CrossOver. We were met at the train station by Sven, the group's conductor who was to lead us to the place of the concert. We arrived just a little after lunch to a hall bustling with enthusiastic singers who were eager to feed us from the bountiful table covered in cakes and biscuits. Once again, we were treated as the guests of honor. Once we had had our fill of sweets, both groups joined on stage to warm up and rehearse together.
We kinda had a lot of fun.... like, so much fun.
Before we knew it, the audience was pouring in and it was time to begin. CrossOver, fearlessly led by Sven in his red, red suit, led the charge and we brought up the rear. The whole thing was a massive success. The audience asked for two encores and we nearly gave them another since they were clapping for so long.
However, it was eventually time to be on our way. After a few drinks with some of the CrossOver singers, we made our way back to the train station so we could prepare for a night out to celebrate one of the girl's birthday.
On the train back, we all sat in the end of a car and improvised some a cappella arrangements (yah, we're that cool). Some of our fellow train riders seemed to enjoy the debacle we were making of ourselves... some others just moved away from us... But it was so much fun. And even though I killed my vocal chords on that ride, I wouldn't have changed a second of it.
Sven gave us one last little talk about getting together and singing more (ha...no. That wasn't going to happen) and then he hopped off the train a few stops before us. Bye, Sven! He was fabulous, and maybe a little bit insane.
Once back to the hostel, we dressed up all snazzy-like and headed out for a night on the town... but mostly we headed out to find a tapas restaurant. I'm pretty sure the girls were always hungry. Like always. We finally found the place after an unfortunate run-in with a biker (I don't have very good luck when it comes to bikers) and the dinner was worth the wait!
The food was almost as good as the company!
The rest of the night was a party. We attempted to sneak our way into a 21+ club with a bunch of random guys that one of the girls knew from Oxford, got rejected, then wandered the streets of Berlin until we finally found a club that would take us. Besides having to fight some random kid that was messing with my friend, the night was splendid. We danced and danced the night away, literally. It was 4 am before I made it back to our hostel and I had to leave for the airport by 5am. You can sleep when you're dead right?
It was such a crazy few days, I didn't even have time to cry my eyes out when saying good-bye to my girls. Before I knew it, my bags were packed and I was in the lobby saying good-bye to our lovely hostel and the very kind kid behind the desk (we became friends while I was waiting for my cab). And just like that, I headed out towards the airport, of course, also becoming friends with my cab driver. Gosh, I just loved Berlin.
So, that's kinda my trip in a semi-large nutshell. Lots of other things happened during my trip. Too many for me to write about in detail, but if you want to know more about fun things I did, just ask me. We can get lunch and chat! And if you live in a place other than Wenham, Massachusetts, we can have a tea date over Skype. (But actually). I'm still not entirely sure that this all happened, but I'm back at college now so I don't have time to sit around and ponder the reality of the last couple weeks. Instead I'm just going to be so grateful, even if it wasn't real, for the greatest dream I ever could have imagined.
[hwurl-wind, wurl-]
2. transf. and fig. Something rushing impetuously like a whirlwind ... a confused and tumultuous process or condition (OED).
I thought I would start this post off with a definition just so we're all on the same page when I describe this past month as a whirlwind. I thought maybe I could keep y'all updated on my Fringe adventure. A post a week? Not terribly bushy tailed, am I right? Well, obviously I didn't write any posts during our run. Why is that? you ask. Because, dear reader, because I didn't even have enough extra time nor brain power to do basic things like eat normally or sleep. So much has happened since the last time I posted that I nearly don't believe it happened. But alas, I have pictures to prove it. So for today's post I'm going to give you a whirlwind review of my past month. With pictures.
Week 1: Rehearse til you die (and brief exploring)
 |
| Oh, Ottie! |
Up at 9am. Sing til lunch. Eat. Sing til dinner. Eat. Sing til midnight. Sleep. Repeat. This was week one. We sang so many songs, so many times. But I was with my girls again. And therefore all was right and good in the world.
Every once in a while we got a break, and I went exploring. I accidentally wandered here one day, to the foot of Arthur's Seat, and it was gorgeous. I could've stayed for a very long time, but naturally I had to sing more. So it was back to rehearsing. And you know what? All that rehearsing paid off.
Week 2: The Beginning of shows (and other shenanigans)
 |
| This was our lovely theatre |
In the Pink, my fabulous female a cappella group, performed at 4:30pm in C Venues on Chambers Street every day for 2 weeks. And we were ridiculously awesome. Over 1,000 people came to see our shows, and we received several great views including a 5 star review from one of the big-deal newspapers that reviews Fringe shows. It was good times.
 |
| Cheers to you, Edinburgh! |
To celebrate our first show, I returned to the place pictured above and climbed the ridge next to Arthur's Seat in order to watch the sunset over Edinburgh.
It was kinda a little bit breathtaking.
So that was amazing, but pretty much the only time I had to explore. The rest of week 2 was consumed with Fringe-related activites.
A particularly exciting/horrible/exhilarating/exhausting/necessary/annoying/wonderful
activity that we had to do every day was busking. Every morning, we would journey to the Royal Mile, the High Street (city centre) in Edinburgh, and fight tooth and nail (jokes) with other performers for slots on stages like the one pictured here. Once on stage, we would yell and sing and stomp and dance and try to convince the unknowing civilians passing by to stop, listen to us, take a flyer, and then come to our show at 4:30 (just around the corner!). Some days this was really fun. Other days it would rain or be freezing and it was less fun.
Thankfully, though, we would always get a nice break for lunch to relieve us of the strains of busking. Many of the days, I journeyed over to the University of Edinburgh and enjoyed lunch with my lovely friends on the grassy quad.
 |
| A moment's rest |
 |
| Yum. |
And with food in our bellies, we continued on.
Towards the end of week 2, we Pinkies found ourselves traveling across the street from C Venues to the National Museum of Scotland. We, along with several other companies performing at C Venues, were to present a shortened version of our shows for an audience of just about 1,000 people at a Museum After Hours event. Super cool, right? While we were at the museum doing a test run a couple days before the show, we met Nick, the chap nearly featured in this here photo, who was the manager of C Venues. He explained to us that he was still looking for a compère (i.e. MC, announcer, all that jazz) for the event and asked if we knew anyone who could do the job. I, for some reason, was not paying attention when he was explaining this to the group, but I was suddenly pulled into the conversation when my girls started pointing to me and pushing me towards Nick. I was hired! That's right, this random little American girl was the announcer for a huge Fringe event at the National Museum of SCOTLAND. Yah, that makes sense.
Actually, it didn't make any sense, but it was a blast. The night was a huge success! All the acts were fabulous and the announcer was the highlight of the evening. Ha! Jokes. But people did seem to like me. They actually clapped when I came on stage to announce things AND laughed when I made jokes. What a party! It really was so much fun. I especially loved getting to know the C Venues staff and museum staff. [Side plug, if you ever go to Edinburgh, you have to go to this museum. It's so unbelievably cool. Oh, and say hi to Craig the museum manager for me. He's my pal].
To thank me for my exceptional compèreing (ha), Nick made me an honorary CIP (VIP but at C Venues). I got to get discounts on basically everything, but the coolest part was just having an official looking lanyard to wear around the theater. Yah, I was kinda a big deal. Well, ok not really. But I did have lots of friends at the theater after the Museum night who were always excited to see me which made week three even better than week two.
Week 3: Our 5 star show had its final run (and I went to as many shows as I possibly could with my get-in-free pass)
So there was a lot that happened during week three. I went to lots of shows including several improv shows, a sketch comedy show, a musical about Latin American prison-mates, and a show of all swing music by none other than the Rat Pack (the impersonators were actually pretty convincing), just to name a few. It was really fun to go to shows, but it was also just so much fun to be with my girls all the time. We had house parties and went out to get drinks together and sometimes just sat on the floor in the corner of C Venues bar, but no matter what we were doing, whenever we were together, I never wanted to be anywhere else.
The last few days went by way too fast. I had one last day of accidental exploring (I was trying to find a show... then I found the castle. Oops?)
I saw a cool guitar player and snapped a picture of this adorable kid watching him so intently.
 |
| Ottie rockin that flyering! "Looking for a show to go to this afternoon?" |
Our final show was amazing. We couldn't have asked for a better way to end our run. We had such a full, engaging audience and we were all on the top of our game (despite the fact that we had lost 2 members since the beginning of our run and multiple girls had been losing their voices). It all came together in that moment of brilliance, and I wouldn't trade that feeling I experienced at the end of our show for anything in the world. As I held the hands of the girls next to me and they held the hands next to them and we took our final bow, together, I knew in that moment a depth of happiness that nearly made my heart burst. Sounds incredible, right? Oh but wait, it's not finished yet.
Week 3.5 When we flew to Berlin, performed in a German music festival, and received the biggest standing ovation(s) ever
They set us up in a nice big room with a lofted bed and magical couch and a shower where we could relax and prepare ourselves for the evening. We waited out the day, eating sausages and listening to other German music groups. It was wonderful.
And it doesn't even end there! The next day we woke up for a quick rehearsal during which we learned a new song that we would be preforming that afternoon with a German a cappella group called CrossOver. We were met at the train station by Sven, the group's conductor who was to lead us to the place of the concert. We arrived just a little after lunch to a hall bustling with enthusiastic singers who were eager to feed us from the bountiful table covered in cakes and biscuits. Once again, we were treated as the guests of honor. Once we had had our fill of sweets, both groups joined on stage to warm up and rehearse together.
We kinda had a lot of fun.... like, so much fun.
Before we knew it, the audience was pouring in and it was time to begin. CrossOver, fearlessly led by Sven in his red, red suit, led the charge and we brought up the rear. The whole thing was a massive success. The audience asked for two encores and we nearly gave them another since they were clapping for so long.
However, it was eventually time to be on our way. After a few drinks with some of the CrossOver singers, we made our way back to the train station so we could prepare for a night out to celebrate one of the girl's birthday.
On the train back, we all sat in the end of a car and improvised some a cappella arrangements (yah, we're that cool). Some of our fellow train riders seemed to enjoy the debacle we were making of ourselves... some others just moved away from us... But it was so much fun. And even though I killed my vocal chords on that ride, I wouldn't have changed a second of it.
Sven gave us one last little talk about getting together and singing more (ha...no. That wasn't going to happen) and then he hopped off the train a few stops before us. Bye, Sven! He was fabulous, and maybe a little bit insane.
Once back to the hostel, we dressed up all snazzy-like and headed out for a night on the town... but mostly we headed out to find a tapas restaurant. I'm pretty sure the girls were always hungry. Like always. We finally found the place after an unfortunate run-in with a biker (I don't have very good luck when it comes to bikers) and the dinner was worth the wait!
The food was almost as good as the company!
It was such a crazy few days, I didn't even have time to cry my eyes out when saying good-bye to my girls. Before I knew it, my bags were packed and I was in the lobby saying good-bye to our lovely hostel and the very kind kid behind the desk (we became friends while I was waiting for my cab). And just like that, I headed out towards the airport, of course, also becoming friends with my cab driver. Gosh, I just loved Berlin.
So, that's kinda my trip in a semi-large nutshell. Lots of other things happened during my trip. Too many for me to write about in detail, but if you want to know more about fun things I did, just ask me. We can get lunch and chat! And if you live in a place other than Wenham, Massachusetts, we can have a tea date over Skype. (But actually). I'm still not entirely sure that this all happened, but I'm back at college now so I don't have time to sit around and ponder the reality of the last couple weeks. Instead I'm just going to be so grateful, even if it wasn't real, for the greatest dream I ever could have imagined.
“The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.”
― Eleanor Roosevelt
Saturday, August 10, 2013
I'm with the Band
When I was little, I had this t-shirt that I liked to wear which had "I'm with the band" printed on the front in blue sparkly letters. I never really understood it. Why was that saying significant enough to put on a t-shirt? And why did I own a shirt that said it? It really didn't make any sense to me until this past week when I found myself walking up to the front of the queue in C venues-a glamorous multilevel theatre building used for the Fringe Festival-and saying to the kind lady behind the desk, "Excuse me, I don't have my pass yet, but I'm performing here. I'd like free tickets to this next show." That's right, miss, I'm with the band.
I've been in Edinburgh only one week, but it already feels like an eternity, like this has been my whole life. Up at 9:30 for rehearsal until lunch, cooking in a crammed little kitchen with a dozen other girls who I adore, more rehearsing for the rest of the afternoon with the occasional break that I spend walking through the bustling streets of Edinburgh and up breathtaking hills that overlook the city, and then of course finishing the day around 11 or 12 after hours more of rehearsing, with the occasional trip to a restaurant or bar with the girls. What a life!
This past week has been especially consumed with rehearsing in preparation for our show starting tomorrow. It feels like all we do is eat, sleep (sometimes) and sing. It's been a lot of work, but its been good. And tonight we were able to give Edinburgh a sneak peak of the results of all our hard work. We performed a short little set at an A Cappella Sing Off with an all boys a cappella group called Semitoned. They were hilarious. We were hilarious. Both groups sang like gods. A good time was had by all.
I'm feeling rather overwhelmed by the magic of all this. It's hard for me to take in how absolutely Beautiful everything is around me: the city, our apartment, the venues, the hills, and, most of all, my wonderful friends who I get to spend everyday with (it's kinda like a never ending sleepover). I know I've done nothing to deserve this influx of Beauty in my life, but I'm grateful, humbled and grateful.
Tomorrow starts the beginning of our 2 week run at the fringe. It hardly seems possible that we've done so much singing and dancing and still haven't even put on a full show, but I know tomorrow is going to be incredible. My girls are the greatest thing since sliced bread and I'm so proud to be part of this group. So, Tomorrow, here's to you...
I've been in Edinburgh only one week, but it already feels like an eternity, like this has been my whole life. Up at 9:30 for rehearsal until lunch, cooking in a crammed little kitchen with a dozen other girls who I adore, more rehearsing for the rest of the afternoon with the occasional break that I spend walking through the bustling streets of Edinburgh and up breathtaking hills that overlook the city, and then of course finishing the day around 11 or 12 after hours more of rehearsing, with the occasional trip to a restaurant or bar with the girls. What a life!
This past week has been especially consumed with rehearsing in preparation for our show starting tomorrow. It feels like all we do is eat, sleep (sometimes) and sing. It's been a lot of work, but its been good. And tonight we were able to give Edinburgh a sneak peak of the results of all our hard work. We performed a short little set at an A Cappella Sing Off with an all boys a cappella group called Semitoned. They were hilarious. We were hilarious. Both groups sang like gods. A good time was had by all.
I'm feeling rather overwhelmed by the magic of all this. It's hard for me to take in how absolutely Beautiful everything is around me: the city, our apartment, the venues, the hills, and, most of all, my wonderful friends who I get to spend everyday with (it's kinda like a never ending sleepover). I know I've done nothing to deserve this influx of Beauty in my life, but I'm grateful, humbled and grateful.
Tomorrow starts the beginning of our 2 week run at the fringe. It hardly seems possible that we've done so much singing and dancing and still haven't even put on a full show, but I know tomorrow is going to be incredible. My girls are the greatest thing since sliced bread and I'm so proud to be part of this group. So, Tomorrow, here's to you...
Sunday, August 4, 2013
On the Road Again
So, I'm in the airport in Halifax, Canada, with free wifi (praise him), waiting 3 hours for my next flight which will take me back to the enchanted lands of Great Britain.
That didn't take long, am I right?
I know what you're thinking. Didn't I just get back? I live in New York, right? Am I ever there? What am I doing in England AGAIN? Great questions. Allow me to shed some light on that.
Remember a couple posts ago (like... lots of posts ago) I mentioned that my a cappella group from Oxford was going to be singing at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival? Yah, we are. It's too cool. Back when I originally mentioned the Fringe, I was under the impression that it would be impossible for me to join in on this getaway. However, my wonderful parents thankfully talked some sense into me and made me realize that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that i couldn't pass up....and that eating ramen noodles for a year in order to pay for it would totally not be that bad.
So here I am-eccomi! as they say in Italian- waiting in the airport. Waiting to go back to the land of castles and princes, amazing public transportation and enchanting accents and most importantly, sheep!! So cool. I should be so pumped, right?
I am. And yet...
I heard this song on the radio the other day and it put words to a feeling that has been squirming in my heart lately.
"One more [post] about moving along the highway. Can't say much of anything that's new. If I could only work this life out my way. I'd rather spend it being close to you" (So Far Away by Carol King)
For the most part, when I tell people about my adventures and my travels their reaction is comparable to "Oh my gosh that's the coolest thing ever! You're so lucky! How awesome! I hate you but that's so awesome!"
I agree with people who tell me it's awesome, but I can't help in those moments to think also about all the collateral damage of my traveling.
As a result of living in so many different places, I have met and fallen in love with so many people who are always "just so far away." And I don't just mean fall in love in a romantic sense. I mean that I have invested my heart and soul into people who have invested in me and changed my heart and life as a result. These people who I love so much that I'd give my life for their happiness are always so far away. And they're all in such different places that even when I'm traveling to be with some of them, I'm leaving others behind me with tears and good-byes.
I don't hate traveling. I love it, I do. And I'm so thankful for this opportunity to travel again, but "if I could only work this life out my way, I'd rather spend it being close to you," all of you who've stolen my heart and made anywhere without you feel not quite right.
I'm leaving again. Leaving all I love about Rochester and Boston. But I'll be back. Only to once again leave all that I love about England behind me. It doesn't seem like there's a way to win in this one...but a good (and brilliant) friend of mine once told me that when I find myself in a lose-lose situation, I've created a false dichotomy for myself. Maybe I've just gotta keep working towards finding a way to win. Maybe just maybe someday it won't be so hard...
But for now, I'll just continue to juggle my uncontrollable excitement for my upcoming adventure with the grave sadness that accompanies inevitable good-byes...
That didn't take long, am I right?
I know what you're thinking. Didn't I just get back? I live in New York, right? Am I ever there? What am I doing in England AGAIN? Great questions. Allow me to shed some light on that.
Remember a couple posts ago (like... lots of posts ago) I mentioned that my a cappella group from Oxford was going to be singing at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival? Yah, we are. It's too cool. Back when I originally mentioned the Fringe, I was under the impression that it would be impossible for me to join in on this getaway. However, my wonderful parents thankfully talked some sense into me and made me realize that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that i couldn't pass up....and that eating ramen noodles for a year in order to pay for it would totally not be that bad.
So here I am-eccomi! as they say in Italian- waiting in the airport. Waiting to go back to the land of castles and princes, amazing public transportation and enchanting accents and most importantly, sheep!! So cool. I should be so pumped, right?
I am. And yet...
I heard this song on the radio the other day and it put words to a feeling that has been squirming in my heart lately.
"One more [post] about moving along the highway. Can't say much of anything that's new. If I could only work this life out my way. I'd rather spend it being close to you" (So Far Away by Carol King)
For the most part, when I tell people about my adventures and my travels their reaction is comparable to "Oh my gosh that's the coolest thing ever! You're so lucky! How awesome! I hate you but that's so awesome!"
I agree with people who tell me it's awesome, but I can't help in those moments to think also about all the collateral damage of my traveling.
As a result of living in so many different places, I have met and fallen in love with so many people who are always "just so far away." And I don't just mean fall in love in a romantic sense. I mean that I have invested my heart and soul into people who have invested in me and changed my heart and life as a result. These people who I love so much that I'd give my life for their happiness are always so far away. And they're all in such different places that even when I'm traveling to be with some of them, I'm leaving others behind me with tears and good-byes.
I don't hate traveling. I love it, I do. And I'm so thankful for this opportunity to travel again, but "if I could only work this life out my way, I'd rather spend it being close to you," all of you who've stolen my heart and made anywhere without you feel not quite right.
I'm leaving again. Leaving all I love about Rochester and Boston. But I'll be back. Only to once again leave all that I love about England behind me. It doesn't seem like there's a way to win in this one...but a good (and brilliant) friend of mine once told me that when I find myself in a lose-lose situation, I've created a false dichotomy for myself. Maybe I've just gotta keep working towards finding a way to win. Maybe just maybe someday it won't be so hard...
But for now, I'll just continue to juggle my uncontrollable excitement for my upcoming adventure with the grave sadness that accompanies inevitable good-byes...
Friday, July 19, 2013
Fetal Position
Seven days. All I have left of this part of my summer. And then I leave. Leave the town where I grew up, not knowing when I will be back.
And then a week in Massachusetts. Another job, how many did I have this summer? And then I leave the country again: three weeks in Scotland. Two days in Berlin. A day in Oxford. I couldn't stay away long. And then Boston. Where do I put down roots? So many—too many—places; not there for long. Too many "and then"s. And then... and then....
And then already my senior year. "What are you doing when you graduate?" they ask me. Wouldn't it be nice to have an answer. How do I choose one thing? How do I even begin to choose? How can I choose now when I know how much I change in a year? How much I will change in this, my last year.
And then... what?
The "and then"s surround me, press me on all sides. I try to sleep, but they suffocate me. I am crushed by questions and unchecked spaces on to-do lists. Time so short. Decisions so big. I collapse in, feeling the weight of these that pressure me, and yet, I rest, here in this fetal position as the thunder rocks me to sleep and the lightning lights up the room so I will not be afraid of the dark.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
It Feels Like…
My favorite parts of Camp-of-the-Woods are the breathtaking masterpieces painted in the sky every evening at sunset....
 |
| Look at that handsome brother of mine. |
 |
| This was a very unique night. The sun was setting on the right but it looked as if it was simultaneously rising on the left. |
....And the reassuring sound of waves lapping incessantly upon the shore, whispering to me “Be still. Fear not. There are some things that will not change.” I love the feeling of the cool mountain breeze on my face and the warmth of the sun soaking into my skin as I sit reading “East of Eden” with my feet in the sand.
And probably my most favorite part of camp is the feeling of the piercingly clear, fresh, lake water passing through my fingers and swirling around my body as I swim. The feeling of swimming in Adirondack water, so pure, so unique, is one that I have searched high and low for a metaphor or simile for. And until recently, I have been at a loss. But now….
The day was perfect for being on the water. It was less warm than usual, but still warm. The sun was hiding behind some clouds, but the sky was still bright, in a gentle, friendly sort of way. The water was calling our names.
“Smile for a picture, my champions!” Momma said as Christa and Popi and I dragged the kayaks towards the water, waddling like marshmallows in our brightly colored life vests.
We boarded our respective vessels and ventured towards the creek beyond the bridge on the other side of the lake.
We steered our little kayaks through two industrial pipes that led to our favorite creek. The creek twists and turns around exciting bends that cause a feeling so great to rise up inside you that you can’t help but sing “Just around the riverbend….” at every turn!
The sun was peeking through the clouds, and the Beauty of the moment caused me to think back in my mind to all the times I’ve felt overwhelmed by Beauty. Popi and Christa were back a couple bends fishing, so I just sat in bliss, letting my fingers twirl the jewel-like water, laughing out loud at memories of times that were so Good their memories still provoke the joy that I felt when they were happening. I laughed and I smiled and I tried to grasp on to those memories, tried to make them real again, tried to hold them tightly so they wouldn’t end. And as I did so, I found myself also grasping at the water. I attempted to capture that coolness, that jewel-like sensation, but it eluded me. It slipped through my fingers and left me empty-handed. I thought again of my memories as I sank my hand back into the water. The feelings came back. Feelings of joy and excitement, the feelings of cool, jewel-tones. And suddenly, I had it! My perfect simile.
I could’ve stayed there floating in my kayak, eyes closed, face lifted to the rays of sunshine, dipping into the enchanting waters of memory, for an eternity, but suddenly I was interrupted by a little rainbow turtle peeking his head through a web of algae. His funny little nose and vibrant colors made me chuckle with delight, and I was reminded: memories can only be Beautiful if I choose to take part in the Beauty of the here and now. If I were to spend too much time submersed in the waters of memory, well, I’d just get all pruney! I thanked the water for its transportation to memory lane, and I thanked the turtle for returning me to reality where my Beautiful sister and father sat not far behind me.Thursday, May 23, 2013
The One that Almost Stumped Me
I've attempted to write this post 4 times. Every time it's ended with me having an existential crisis and giving up. This is my final attempt at writing this. If this fails, I'll probably start a new blog and pretend this didn't happen. But I'm not giving up yet. I can do this.
So.
I'm done. I finished my year at Oxford. I completed my last paper on April 11th (I know...that was a while ago). 31 papers, 68,000 words, a handful of field trips to historic sites and numerous adventures around the UK, countless hours in the library and even more hours spent discussing, arguing and discovering Truth with friends and strangers, many a miles biked, many a streets explored, so much Beauty experienced, so much life lived.
My journey has come to an end. I've returned to Rochester. I've returned to real life where I sleep on the couch in the living room of my family's apartment, where I have to work 30 hours a week mindlessly scanning groceries so I can pay for college, where I visit college and no one has time to hang out because the American college system leaves so little time for students to just be. I've returned to having so much free time to read and read but with no one to discuss or debate or dissect what I'm reading with me. I left my dream come true—my life of constant Beauty and wonder—and woke up to this.
(Now you might understand why my attempts at this post have led to a number of existential crises...)
I haven't been able to complete this post before because to some degree I had convinced myself that this wasn't real, that this was simply a transition period, the cavern over which I was jumping to get from one dreamland to the next. I thought maybe if I just pretended it wasn't real then it wouldn't be so bad. I spent the last month doing that—pretending. And it hasn't really worked. But thankfully, I think I've stumbled upon a new way of doing things.
Something that became so real to me while I was at Oxford was the fact that things in this life are finite. They have an end, and more often than not, those endings come sooner than we would like. That time I spent living my dream—living in a magical city which had begun to feel like Home, living with Beautiful friends who I had fallen so deeply in love with—seemed to end so fast. It didn't seem fair how fast it ended. But that's how it is with all of life, even when I don't realize it. Moments are slipping away from me all the time. Things are ending, never to happen again, all the time. Never again will I be able to relive this moment of writing a blog post while sitting on the couch on a summery afternoon, listening to Ray Montagne and the lawn mower outside, waiting to meet with a dear friend for coffee. This moment will end as suddenly as it began; just like that it will slip away into the realm of reality which consists only of memories. That's how life works. When I think of life like that, it makes me want to live differently.
I've been spending a good amount of time lately with some friends of mine that I've known since middle school, preschool, and even from birth. These friends are the people I grew up with, the people that I grew into me with. We're all here again, reunited this summer in Rochester, Ny. And when I think of being with them, I'm faced with the reality that this may be the last time that all of us will be in the same place at the same time for a long while. When I think of how this moment, like all the others, will soon slip away from me, it makes me so thankful that I'm here in Rochester, working 30 hours a week, only in the mornings, so that I have all these evenings that I can spend with my dear friends. And it's the same when I think about this time I have living with my family, possibly the last extended time I'll have living in my parents' home.
I'll admit, this way of thinking doesn't mean I'm magically super happy now to be back here in Rochester. I'm still kinda struggling and I miss my life at Oxford so very much, but I think things are looking up.
When I think about all this, about trying to live Beautifully and be thankful for every moment that I have the privilege to experience, I'm reminded of a moment I had in Oxford with my Beautiful friend Megan. It was Megan's birthday and a couple of us girls had dressed up to go out for drinks and dancing (just a day in the life...). We had to walk into the city center from our house which was about 45 mins outside of the city, and as soon as we walked outside, I gave up hope of it being a good night. It was (what a surprise) raining, very hard. I felt really bad that it had to be raining on Megan's birthday, and I was trying to hide my disappointment and make sure Megan still had a good time. We were walking arm in arm, Megan and I, and I said to her "Sorry about the rain, bruv." She smiled at me, closed her eyes, tilted her face towards the sky, and breathed in. "I love the rain so much," she said to me. That look on her face, glistening with raindrops which were shinning with the orange glow of the street lamps, will stay in my memory forever. It was a moment that was transformed for me all because Megan chose to make it Beautiful.
So, here's to choosing to make this summer Beautiful. Here's to tilting my face to the rain and taking in all that is good about it. Here's to not letting the moments of this summer slip away without appreciating their hidden Beauty.
So.
I'm done. I finished my year at Oxford. I completed my last paper on April 11th (I know...that was a while ago). 31 papers, 68,000 words, a handful of field trips to historic sites and numerous adventures around the UK, countless hours in the library and even more hours spent discussing, arguing and discovering Truth with friends and strangers, many a miles biked, many a streets explored, so much Beauty experienced, so much life lived.
My journey has come to an end. I've returned to Rochester. I've returned to real life where I sleep on the couch in the living room of my family's apartment, where I have to work 30 hours a week mindlessly scanning groceries so I can pay for college, where I visit college and no one has time to hang out because the American college system leaves so little time for students to just be. I've returned to having so much free time to read and read but with no one to discuss or debate or dissect what I'm reading with me. I left my dream come true—my life of constant Beauty and wonder—and woke up to this.
(Now you might understand why my attempts at this post have led to a number of existential crises...)
I haven't been able to complete this post before because to some degree I had convinced myself that this wasn't real, that this was simply a transition period, the cavern over which I was jumping to get from one dreamland to the next. I thought maybe if I just pretended it wasn't real then it wouldn't be so bad. I spent the last month doing that—pretending. And it hasn't really worked. But thankfully, I think I've stumbled upon a new way of doing things.
Something that became so real to me while I was at Oxford was the fact that things in this life are finite. They have an end, and more often than not, those endings come sooner than we would like. That time I spent living my dream—living in a magical city which had begun to feel like Home, living with Beautiful friends who I had fallen so deeply in love with—seemed to end so fast. It didn't seem fair how fast it ended. But that's how it is with all of life, even when I don't realize it. Moments are slipping away from me all the time. Things are ending, never to happen again, all the time. Never again will I be able to relive this moment of writing a blog post while sitting on the couch on a summery afternoon, listening to Ray Montagne and the lawn mower outside, waiting to meet with a dear friend for coffee. This moment will end as suddenly as it began; just like that it will slip away into the realm of reality which consists only of memories. That's how life works. When I think of life like that, it makes me want to live differently.
I've been spending a good amount of time lately with some friends of mine that I've known since middle school, preschool, and even from birth. These friends are the people I grew up with, the people that I grew into me with. We're all here again, reunited this summer in Rochester, Ny. And when I think of being with them, I'm faced with the reality that this may be the last time that all of us will be in the same place at the same time for a long while. When I think of how this moment, like all the others, will soon slip away from me, it makes me so thankful that I'm here in Rochester, working 30 hours a week, only in the mornings, so that I have all these evenings that I can spend with my dear friends. And it's the same when I think about this time I have living with my family, possibly the last extended time I'll have living in my parents' home.
I'll admit, this way of thinking doesn't mean I'm magically super happy now to be back here in Rochester. I'm still kinda struggling and I miss my life at Oxford so very much, but I think things are looking up.
When I think about all this, about trying to live Beautifully and be thankful for every moment that I have the privilege to experience, I'm reminded of a moment I had in Oxford with my Beautiful friend Megan. It was Megan's birthday and a couple of us girls had dressed up to go out for drinks and dancing (just a day in the life...). We had to walk into the city center from our house which was about 45 mins outside of the city, and as soon as we walked outside, I gave up hope of it being a good night. It was (what a surprise) raining, very hard. I felt really bad that it had to be raining on Megan's birthday, and I was trying to hide my disappointment and make sure Megan still had a good time. We were walking arm in arm, Megan and I, and I said to her "Sorry about the rain, bruv." She smiled at me, closed her eyes, tilted her face towards the sky, and breathed in. "I love the rain so much," she said to me. That look on her face, glistening with raindrops which were shinning with the orange glow of the street lamps, will stay in my memory forever. It was a moment that was transformed for me all because Megan chose to make it Beautiful.
So, here's to choosing to make this summer Beautiful. Here's to tilting my face to the rain and taking in all that is good about it. Here's to not letting the moments of this summer slip away without appreciating their hidden Beauty.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)