A Part Apart

On November 9, 2014, I published a post called "Into the Wild" that described my metaphorical attachment to the perpetual motion and consistency of a river.  Although consistency remains a top value in my life, there are certain statements in this post I would now dispute or readdress. "Such is the ultimate from my perspective," I wrote, "stillness not in a pause to appreciate the present, but traveling ripples that are grounded without thought in the now."  Today, I agree that a pause for appreciation is unrealistic and not ideal.  Motion continues to entrance me; I connect with movement in both its physical and figurative manifestations.  Nonetheless, appreciating the present does not indicate a vacuum of thought.  Instead, thoughts and emotions are inevitable.  The self controls neither feelings nor the words that motivate, discourage, compel, trample, and run through one's head.  Today, I continue through my actions to model the movement of a riv

For my parents - When I type "parent" into my laptop search engine, then press enter, "parent connection login" will pop up, asking me for the username and password that conceals my grades.  If I type "parent" into the search bar above my cell phone texts, the most recent message is "…your parents would have texted you if you'd gotten the (ACT) letter?" However, these indications are in fact the opposite of my perception of parents.  I have never felt my parents' excessive involvement in my schoolwork or pressure from them to do well on standardized tests.  Rather, school is the place where I am tested without my parents.  It is the building of separation.  It is the place where I alone am in control of the outcome; consequently, school is a place of happiness for me.  In both myself and my peers, I have noticed that there is often increased happiness when a child is away from parents.  This is not a result of dislike for parents, as is

Jimmy Valentino classified survival so simply and purely; he claimed that one would find the meaning of life with daily laughter, thought, and tears.  Valentino's basic statement reminded me of the phrases stamped on the outside of Lululemon gift bags.  Hanging from the shoulder of a college student or supported in two hands by a elderly lady, Lululemon's statements define simply what the company assumes to universally bring joy: "Do one thing a day that scares you", "Dance, sing, floss, and travel", "Children are the orgasm of life". Some of the statements seem to be surface level; however, there is an overall philosophy in these quotes that is challenging, declarative, and disputable: "Do it now, do it now, do it now!"  The emphasis on living in the present and "doing" in the present is evident in Lululemon's give presence campaign.  One photo on the campaign website reads, "Living in the moment could be the meaning o

           One concept that I’ve always struggled with is the idea of letting people go.  I struggle with this not because of my dependence on the other person but because of my need to classify human relationships and identify my feelings.  My thoughts about other people adapt very gradually…very cautiously…because I feel unstable when I do not understand myself.             My time in high school introduced me to a girl whose feelings rapidly intensify and diminish. In this classmate, my locker partner, I see my own perspectives manifest in tears, bear hugs, and squeals.   Although they sometimes appear unusual, my locker partner’s emotions are always relevant.   In fact, they are often such relevant emotions that I was formally taught to ignore them.   Fear of fire drills is one example.   During my first school fire drill, I was a hysterical component of a chaotic kindergarten class.   Following this disorder, teachers spent countless lunch periods walking my classmates and I

I have always found water to be fresh and magical; ironically, much of water’s sorcery is derived from its archaic and common life.   I attempted to express the magnificent ubiquitous quality of water in dance choreography during my sophomore year; my piece focused on the ability of the substance to take on a variety of forms as well as reflect these forms throughout the world.   I spent an early spring morning last year mesmerized by sea foam clawing at sands; I then spent a Tuesday night watching waves lull beside a northside beach.   These two moments allowed me to see the same body approach me with aggression and with tenderness; however, water’s thrashing crests, peaceful stretches, and repetitive crashes are not esoteric expressions for me or for specific beaches. Water demonstrates the same qualities in all parts of the earth. Human relationships are likewise mirrored everywhere.   Although each relationship contains its beautiful nuances, it is innately human to experience c

"We still haven't figured this out yet," you claim.  You act surprised. I'm not sure why.  You may be impatient for another's theories to satisfy your incompetencies or eager to transition to the next, perhaps more significant, goal. However, there is no goal, no fun, no purpose to a life that is lived without examination and missing the challenges that entertain open-ended figuring.  Humans innately possess a desire for knowledge.  Siddhartha identifies such in his journeying, but it is also made overt by young, formulating minds. For example, toddlers explore in preschool how other humans interact to body language, words, and play.  Adults likewise experience frustration and miscommunication in human interaction, which demonstrates that there is still uncertainty about human interaction; man is eternally trying to figure out its world. Still, 250,000 years following the our species's first figuring, humans may not realize that knowledge is ephemeral; it is