Leaving

There's something romantic about leaving, about impermanence and appreciating what is fleeting. I know I'm lucky to have an opportunity to learn, for the scholarships and aid. But I know this isn't where I need to be right now.

Thinking of the things I could be doing with my time makes my heart race. Knowing that I could be spending my days helping other people, being the change I want to see in the world... it makes me anxious and nervous to get out.

I don't want to be a part of the rat race. I have so much love to give and hope that every hug, conversation, smile that I give makes a difference to someone. I want to give my heart on a larger scale, and am currently searching for my dare to be great situation.

I don't want to be another generalization that turns out to be true. I don't want to be boring and ordinary. What is boring or ordinary is subjective, of course. But I like to think that I'm different. I hope that I'm different.

I admire people who are honest. I admire openness. Above my desk is an old Ray-Ban advertisement ripped from a magazine and sent to me years ago from my best friend, Maryela. The models are folded out of sight, with the text as the only thing showing. "NEVER HIDE" is what it reads. I tape it above my desk or bed everywhere I go as a small but loud reminder.

Honesty works because it makes sense. Everything will add up and further your development if you are honest with yourself.

Easy summers and memories from my childhood make me wish I had never grown up. They make me wish I'd never entered the post-adolescent idealistic phase, because no matter how much of an inside joke it is, it's real. And it's going to last a while.

Nostalgia for childhood creeps up on me every time because I'm a sucker for what I can't have. There's absolutely no turning back to the ignorance of not knowing that we live in a broken world. Each video, photo, bit of knowledge, from every documentary, story, class, has been etched into me forever. And for every bit of knowledge I gain about the state of things, I give a bit of my heart in return. I'm forever altered when I learn these things. And there's so much wrong with the world that I feel almost overwhelmed with my desire to help but not even knowing where to begin because so much seems so desolate. But as blissful as the ignorance was... the hot nights, the carefree, the beautiful insignificance of it all... I wouldn't change to have it back.

Why be this way? Why throw yourself into uncomfortable situations, why fight, when you could stay complacent? It reminds me of something I came across when reading about Noam Chomsky... someone asked him a similar question regarding his political activism, and he replied that it had something to do with being able to look yourself in the eyes in the morning.