Happy Thanksgiving

This year, I decided to stay at college for the Thanksgiving holiday. Though I really miss my family and wish I could have magically transported myself to be with them for dinner, I am so happy I decided to stay at school- having some alone time around the holidays was much needed this year.

One of the highlights of my Thanksgiving was having dinner with Trish- my Taekwondo coach- and her family. She has been such a dear friend to me ever since I started Taekwondo three years ago. When I spent the summer at college a few years back, Trish was the one who drove me to my first tournament. She also comes up to teach at the college even though she works all day, teaches other classes, and has two adorable kids that she needs to get home to. I am amazed and inspired by her ability to be an amazing mom, give back to other people, and have a great career all at once. In a lot of ways, she reminds me of my mom, and I hope to be as good a parent as they both are one day.

So, I go over to spend Thanksgiving with her, and her whole family is fabulous. I haven't been around so many warm, beautiful, welcoming people in a really long time, so this Thanksgiving was a treat. Dinner was fantastic, and I think I've got myself a new stuffing recipe, courtesy of Trish's mom. At one point, I start talking to another gentleman at the table and he's asking me about college. Then all of a sudden, he starts listing a bunch of my friends' names and asking me if I know them. I got a little nervous at first and wondered what I had done to send the CIA after me, but he later told me that he is a professor at Hamilton- one that I've heard many great things about, too. "It's a small world after all..."

Although the food was great and the company was lovely, one of the highlights of my evening was watching Trish's son and the son of another guest who was from Japan play together all night. The other boy did not speak a lick of English, and yet, they got along so well and seemed to understand each other just fine. I can practically hear some couples I know saying,
"It's no wonder they got along well. I'd probably get along a lot better with my husband/wife too if he/she stopped talking so much."

...But seriously, it was amazing. In a moment of reflection I thought, "How great a world would this be if we could all just meet each other- see each other face to face- understand that while there may be language differences, religious differences, cultural differences- we are far more similar than we are different." Sometimes, it's easier to focus on the former. But, the focus on difference also creates divisiveness, which to me, is the root of a lot of suffering in the world.

As I watched these two boys play, I realized that sometimes in life, what we don't say holds more weight than what we do say. Regardless of what language we "speak," there is something about human communication that trumps oral language. At the heart of our relationships with people, there is: the desire to be accepted, to have fun, to gain new perspective. I admired the boys for doing something that many adults seem to have trouble with these days- focusing on the sameness rather than the difference...a lesson we should all learn if we want to leave the world better than it was when we entered into it.


Of course, Thanksgiving wouldn't be complete without giving thanks. I love this holiday because (other than the delicious food) it reminds me to reflect on all of the wonderful opportunities I've had in my life, and all of the wonderful people I have had the honor of knowing who made the journey worthwhile thus far. I am so thankful for this dinner, for the opportunity to try anything and everything I've ever wanted to do- like study abroad in Fiji, or join Taekwondo, or write for a magazine. I am thankful for my education and the past four years at Hamilton College- the extent to which my college experience has changed my life is positively overwhelming. I am thankful for my health, my dreams, and my faith in others and in myself. And, I am eternally grateful to my own mom, who brought me into this world, nurtured me for the last 21 years of my life, and practically hand-stitched a beautiful set of wings for me so that I could fly. The view from up here is truly breathtaking.


Love Life &
Happy Thanksgiving,


<3 Melissa

One Red Paperclip

I was talking to one of my good friends the other night and we got on the topic of this guy, Kyle MacDonald, who began a series of online trades with a little red paperclip. After a year of trading, Kyle ended up with a house in Canada. Now, this is pretty amazing. This guy woke up one day, decided to trade a freaking paperclip, and winded up with a house in 12 months time. It doesn't seem very likely that one could turn a paperclip into a house, but apparently it is.

This story does something extraordinary; it's equivalent to telling someone how to turn a penny into a silver dollar. It touches upon the incredibly process of turning a small, underestimated object into a huge, treasured possession. Something about this story gets at the heart of what I think all human beings strive to do: grow and develop in value over time.

Now, this same friend always listens to me while I ruminate about what I'm supposed to do with the rest of my life (rumination is pointless in most respects, I am aware). But as I put two and two together- my slight trepidation about the near future and this red paperclip story- I realize that we all start off as red paperclips. Everyday is a chance to trade our old selves in for something bigger and better. Sometimes, we don't make the best trades, but we learn from them and wind up doing better in the future.

I love this story because it shows that through it all, you have to keep trading. If you stop looking for something more in yourself and in the world around you, nothing would ever progress. But a big part of trading is patience- if we don't have it, then it becomes easier to make poor choices and ultimately wind up with something we never wanted to begin with.

So what's the takeaway? In my opinion, it is that no matter how little you seem to have or how far you may be from your dream, you have to start somewhere. And after you decide when and how to surrender who you are for who you could be, you have to worry about 100 other things- what you ultimately want in the end, what your next step should be, how to manage all of the hype you generate because of the decisions you make. But the decisions never stop, so we'd better enjoy the ride starting now!

In a lot of ways, we are all that red paperclip, hoping for more. But I think the best thing about that tiny object was that it never tried to be more than it was. Kyle didn't try to sell it as a magic clip or a gold-plated office product. When that trade began, the little red clip was practically screaming, "Here I am. What you see is what you get, so take it or leave it." And people took it. This is a lesson for all of us- that being exactly who you are right now is what makes you valuable.

And if you aren't afraid of being yourself right now, but are still open to a little trading....who knows. You might wake up in a brand new house tomorrow.




Love Life,

Melissa

Math + History = The Same?

I'm not a math person, and I'm definitely not a history buff (though I secretly wish I could have a sophisticated conversation about preemptive war doctrines and differential equations). I'm more of a writing/ marketing/ anthropological kinda gal.

So, when a friend recently told me that his two favorite subjects were math and history, I just had to ask: why in the world are you interested (and probably really good at) not one, but both of these? In my mind, they have always been such different subjects. He responded, "They are actually quite similar. With math, there are a number of different ways to get to the same answer. History is kind of like that, too. With history, you can find drastically varied understandings of a singular event."

Hmmm. I had never really thought of it that way before. But now that I see the similarities between math and history, I'm starting to see the similarities in every subject- with slight variation from one to the other, of course. For instance, with language, you can construct a sentence in multiple ways to get the same general point across. In psychology, experiments can be manipulated and replicated in order to get an expected set of results. In sociology, you can use a number of theoretical perspectives to account for a particular human behavior or interaction.

I am in awe of the beautifully interconnected world that I live in. This notion- that many subjects are similar because a number of paths lead up to one final result- seems generalizable to life as a whole. At any given point, we are responsible for creating our own unique paths which lead us to the same final result. The literal result would be death, but the metaphorical result would be life- destiny, fate. Some people would say that if this were true- if life is prescribed for us- what would be the point of living?

I don't necessarily believe in the prescripted life. But I do believe the journey is just as- if not more- important than the destination. It's kind of like taking a trip. Say I flew from New York to Los Angeles; what happened in between did not change the fact that I started in one place and ended up in another. But, it might've had an impact on how I felt when I arrived at my final destination:

Scenario 1: I could've flown coach in a cramped plane, in front of a kid who could not stop kicking my damn seat, with a mean stewardess who didn't even give me the roasted peanuts I paid for and deserve!

Or, Scenario 2: I could've flown business class with double the leg room, ate a decent dinner (!!), and had a lovely conversation with the attractive guy sitting next to me in a spectacular Armani suit.

...So, there may be just one starting point and one destination. But the different scenarios that could happen in between wind up shaping how I feel and who I am when I finally get to point B from point A.



In life, you choose your own journey. The destination isn't what's necessarily important. After all, we spend much more time traveling than landing. We can follow a path that causes harm and disservice to others and ourselves. Or, we can make a conscious effort every day to live the best life we can. Smile at a stranger; not smiling won't destroy their whole day, but a smile might make it a little better. Put the extra time in at work- maybe you aren't getting paid enough (or at all) for it, but chances are you'll learn a lot more and maybe even get to where you want to be faster. And above all else, love yourself for who you are right now. Easier said than done, right? Of course it is. But, if we are constantly planning and waiting for the next moment rather than enjoying the one we are in right now, we are going to look back in 50 years and wonder how and why we wasted so much time.

I've realized, after that chance conversation with my friend, that everything and everyone is connected in ways that are subtle, but profound. We all travel different paths, only to get to the same end. But we fool ourselves when we spend too much time thinking about the end, as if the end is the point. Are lives are really defined by the small choices- the seemingly insignificant paths we choose along the way.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go and watch the History Channel.


Love Life,

Melissa

Thoughts on a lazy Sunday

I was at Sunday mass on my campus the other day, and as I was listening to Father Croghan’s homily, I started to think about the types and qualities of interpersonal communication. The homily was about forgiving people- even when they don’t necessarily deserve it. I thought of all the people in my life that I have interpersonal relationships with- how they have forgiven me or vice versa in the past. Sometimes, forgiveness is granted because we ask for it. Other times, the desire for forgiveness- or the desire to forgive- is unspoken. For instance, my mom and I will fight over something trivial; usually a projection of personal emotions onto an unrelated source. But, give it a day and my mom and I will be over it without needing to have a big conversation about what went wrong. Thinking back to the instances of forgiveness in my life, have I been more likely to forgive those I feel closest to because I cherish them the most? Or, am I more likely to forgive people I do not know as well because I am not as confident in my ability to accurately interpret their actions, or care enough to find their behavior offensive/hurtful?

This leads me to another interesting thought about the other end of forgiveness, which is causing pain (emotionally, physically, mentally, financially...). Why is it that we hurt the ones we love the most? Is it because we trust them not to hate us for it? Because we need someone to take our anger out on and they are the “safest” people to do it to? This is, to me, one of the biggest ironies in life: taking for granted the unconditional love that others give us.

Finally, thinking back to the homily and my interpersonal relationships, I wonder how I would define my relationship with God. I was raised Catholic, but my grandparents were Buddhist, so there are crosses next to Buddhas in my house. Some might think I'd be religiously confused; I say I'm religiously infused! Anyway, I can’t help but believe in my heart that I have an interpersonal relationship with this omnipotent being. Sometimes, I feel like God is there just to hear me complain, and I often feel guilty because I call on Big G when I am in need of something- as if I was talking to Santa Claus. But at other times, I can feel God running through me- encouraging me to do my best and navigating me out of the worst. My relationship with God right now may not be as strong as it was at other points in my life. But, isn’t that the nature of all interpersonal relationships? Sometimes to understand how much something/someone means to you, you have to experience life without it.

Some people might argue that God is really just one's conscience. If that's true, then my “relationship” with God is an intrapersonal one. But I'd respond by asking: Are we really ever just one person? At any given point, we assume so many different roles. My mom and my best friend and a stranger on the street all have completely different notions of who I am. To some extent, they are all “me”. So is my relationship with God, or even myself, truly an “intrapersonal” one when it feels like there are multiple feelings or trains of thought going on inside myself at once? I am not sure I will ever know the answer to this question, and I am learning to forgive myself for not always knowing. After all, sometimes the most challenging person to forgive is oneself.


Love Life,

Melissa