Everything

Everything happens for a reason.
No matter how stressed or worried I am, it will pass. I am strong. I am capable.

Can't sleep...

It's exactly 3:30 am as I start writing this. I don't think I've been up this late since the day of my philosophy midterm last spring quarter: May 4th, the day after my birthday. Honestly, I don't know why I'm still up. It could be because of that coffee bubble tea, but seriously bubble tea? I had that more than 12 hours ago. I'm so light-headed. I just feel like writing.

It'll be in EXACTLY one week and about four and a half hours. It hasn't hit me yet. I don't know why. It's ONE week. Shouldn't it have hit me by now? I WANT it to have hit me by now. I want to start savoring every moment of looking forward to it, because, other than experiencing the actual moment/event itself, it's one of the best feelings ever. Being excited about something/looking forward to something  is one of life's greatest things. It's so underrated. When you're actually experiencing whatever it is that you were looking forward to, it goes by just like that. It ends so quickly. The moment you were waiting months or even years for is already over.

I think learning to appreciate the excitement/the looking-forward-to-ness/the time BEFORE whatever it is you're looking for to helps you to appreciate even MORE that certain moment/experience. It makes the time waiting so much more worth it. That's how it is for me anyway. I think I've only recently started enjoying the excitement. It used to be like "Oh my god, I wish this week would hurry up and pass already," but I try not to think like that anymore. I just wait, and I enjoy it. I think that's part of the overall experience. Including the entire excited waiting process into the experience just literally expands the overall joyfulness, yeah? And then I find that I remember so many more details about that moment I was waiting for, because I'm appreciating it so much more, knowing how excited I was while waiting for it.

I take the time to tear myself away. I take a step back and pretend that I'm just some creeper watching everything around me. I take note of what I hear, what I see, what I feel, what I think. Then I feel like I enjoyed that moment to the fullest capacity because I didn't just let it rush by in front of my eyes. I can remember everything.

Missing that Childlike Wildlife

I'm in the living room printing off endless readings for the following week, when the newest addition to the household, Langi prances over and gazes at the printer with wonderment. His eyes dart back and forth from the paper going into the printer, to it coming out from the other end. He jumps onto the paper coming out from it, preventing it from coming out any further, and causing a paper jam within. As I shoe him off, he jumps instead on top of the printer, sticking his tiny paw inside the paper feed, looking back at me like "Wowzers, this is so cool."

I've been observing this little man since the time I finally got back to Seattle. I've admired his enjoyment in the smallest things, from his staring at my laptop screen and trying to "stop" my mouse from darting back and forth with his paw, to his chasing the wrong end of the cat toys (ie: chasing the plastic handle instead of the yellow pompoms on the other end).

After watching him swatting his paw at the curtain drawstrings, my roommate commented "Oh, the joys of youth."

When do our "joys of youth" end? Why does it even have to end? Of course, I'm not saying that we should all start finding joy in watching printers, but why do we need such elaborate and complicated things to be so happy? Why do we have to stress ourselves to be happy? In my opinion, there is so much to learn from this guy. The lesson he has to teach us is this: be grateful for what you have, and enjoy everything around you. Take what you've got, learn to be satisfied with it.

Live life with no regrets--if you do, then you're looking to the past too much. Is that what life's about? Dwelling in the past? What's that going to help with? Essentially, you're just staying stuck in one location. It's getting you NOWHERE. If you screwed up, then deal with it. Don't think of it as a mistake--take it as a lesson and learn from it.

Uneasy

There are times when I feel like I just can't sleep, when I just don't want to sleep. I just want to stay up all night despite my sleepy eyes that are begging to be shielded from bright light. I just want to stay up and welcome any random thought that enters my mind. My mind is constantly running, it's constantly active. I feel uneasy. I feel like I need to resolve something.

It's always because there's something that went wrong during the day. There are few things that have been bugging me lately:

• My annoyance that I'm at home. I'm annoyed that I'm annoyed. I should be grateful that I'm here, that I have a family to welcome me and that will be there for me. But the thing is that I'm putting this annoyance upon myself. I'm causing it myself. No one's doing this to me, so I don't have anyone else to blame. I'm doing this to myself, which makes it that much more annoying. It's like I'm purposefully hurting myself.
  
• The fact that I don't have a way of making money right now and the fact that I'm spending a lot. I feel like I'm in no position right now to be giving gifts. I'm just a college student and I don't have a job. But at the same time I feel like during the holidays you're almost obligated to give people a materialistic gift to show that you care. Buying a gift and giving it someone doesn't even mean ANYTHING. People say it shows that you care, but honestly you could give a gift to a person you hate, but that doesn't mean that you care if you don't have the right feelings to go along with it. When it comes down to it, it really is the thought that counts. Don't get me wrong, I don't think there's anything wrong with giving people gifts. I LOVE buying people stuff. In fact, I'm going to do more shopping tomorrow. Is that being contradictory? I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. Someone help me out, please? The summary of the story is: I'm a total scrooge.
  

I guess I've never been much of a holiday person. I know the reasons why. But one thing that confuses me is why I seem to hate receiving gifts. I'm an only child and I was spoiled to death when I was younger when it came to birthdays and Christmas. Looking at past photos I SEEMED happy enough at all of my birthday parties. But now I feel like unwrapping gifts is one of the most awkward moments ever. I don't have a problem giving gifts--I have a problem receiving gifts. Is that weird?

I know I should be grateful. There is SO much to be grateful for: that I have a bed, that I have the time to just sit here and type this out, that I have people who care. I'm so annoyed that I'm not feeling it. This post absolutely goes against everything this entire blog was supposed to be about, but this holiday uneasiness and gift queasiness is so befuddling to me.

Grateful for:

Having opportunities and having the ability to at least try. There is ALWAYS a way. You just have to open up your mind and be creative. If it means harder work, then so be it--if it's what you really want, then it shouldn't matter. What should matter the most is that you got there. Giving up ain't in my vocabulary.

On your mark, get set............

Normally at this time of the school year I am gearing to go. I get my readings done ahead of time, assignments are done as soon as they are assigned, and I'm in this mindset where I feel like I can do anything and that 4.0 is totally doable. Time flies.

But ever since I got back on campus after that amazing night of Mraz at the Rose Garden, I've been feeling sluggish--not wanting to be here at all and wishing it was still 90 degrees--and actually wishing that I was still studying for the LSAT. Anything but being here and reading things I don't really care about. I feel stuck. Is it really only the eighth day of the quarter?

I feel like I've changed a lot over the summer. But I still have a lot to grow considering the state I'm in right now. If I was at my fullest potential I'd be happy. I wouldn't be caring about what my father thought. I would perhaps be reconsidering law school, if not considering going to a lesser-known school. I would just graduate this year, find some random, decent-paying job and live a comfy, peaceful lifestyle where I can live with no worries. I would do what I please and be happy. I wouldn't care so much about being wealthy and having nice things. I would move down to somewhere in California where it's summer all year long and wear flipflops and shorts everyday.

I know such a lifestyle isn't impossible. I could totally make that happen were it not for my father and his high expectations, were it not for my mom and her wish that I get a high-paying occupation. There have been times where I desired that luxurious lifestyle. I love clothes and shopping. I wanted to work in an office where it's all hustle-bustle. I wanted to feel important and live that high-class lifestyle with a nice car.

But lately I've been realizing that I just don't need it. I could be just as happy, if not even more happy, doing something else. But considering I'm still pursuing this unneeded lifestyle shows how much I still have to grow. I shouldn't be caring so much about what my parents want. I am my own person and I should be able to do what makes me happy. I could totally make this alternative lifestyle possible. But we'll see what happens.

Let death be your wisest advisor

Today before dinner I was as usual engrossed in LSAT studying, letting the stories of the local news enter my ear periodically. I heard the words "Hit-and-run" and welcomed this particular story in its entirety.

Normally I don't pay much mind to whatever's on the local news. It's the same thing everyday: a rape, a robbery, a murder, some outrageous new claim about what's healthy for our bodies, and the weather. Unfortunately, while a lot of these stories are sad and exemplify the current state of our world, it appears I've become immune to them.

But this particular hit-and-run occurred only 3 min away from where I lived. It's funny, isn't it? How because this story literally hit close to home (literally) I paid more attention to it? It reminds me of my philosophy class when we were discussing Peter Singer, who says:

"The fact that a person is physically near to us, so that we have personal contact with him, may make it more likely that we shall assist him, but this does not show that we ought to help him rather than another who happens to be further away. If we accept any principle of impartiality, universability, equality or whatever, we cannot discriminate against someone merely because he is too far away from us (or we are far away from him)."

Not exactly the same thing as I'm discussing here, so I digress.

Anyway, I open up my facebook and scrolling through the statuses on my home page I'm surprised at all of the RIP statuses attributed to a teacher who taught at my high school--a tall skinny man with white and gray hair with a matching large mustache. He wore large frames and I always saw him with his long white lab coat. I frowned and wondered how he had died--though I never had him as a teacher myself, he had always seemed like the most energetic, healthy man. Once in the hallway he had stopped me and exclaimed "HEY! I had a long, black ponytail like you did when I was younger." The first word that came to mind when I saw him was "goofy."

Mr. P had died in a hit-and-run only 3 min away from my house. I couldn't believe it. I was deeply saddened and surely in disbelief. I feel like death is something that will always affect people if it's even someone that you knew of remotely. Even Patrick Swayze's death had somewhat of an effect on me--I've never even seen any of his movies. I don't know why. Maybe it's because you know the world is just a little bit, even a teeny-tiny bit different with that person gone.

As I was thinking of Mr. P, I looked back and realized at how many deaths occurred in this past year. Of course, duh, people are dying all the time in countries across the world, but really we don't pay attention to this. As I'm typing right at this moment, there are several individuals who are dying. But when we look simply look at the statistics, we don't see the characters behind those deaths. They're just numbers. It's so dehumanizing. But everywhere there is a story to be told. Unfortunately, we don't know of them.

I remember a quote that my yoga teacher once told the class. She was a crazy woman and I wasn't too fond of her, but I will always remember this seemingly morbid, but uplifting quote:

"Let death be your wisest advisor."

Death is something a lot of people are scared of, but with so many people dying, let it help you. Let it remind you what life is for.

RIP, Mr. P.