Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Gounded.


I made it through sleepless nights, hours of studying, and too much caffeine.

I wore beautiful dresses, put on makeup, drank one too many alcoholic beverages, and danced the nights away.

I put on a smile, held back my tears, sat through mass, and watched my amazing friends walk across the stage and graduate.

I packed up all of my stuff, moved out of my jail cell, and settled into my Mission Boulevard address.

I gave away a million hugs and I said a million "I love you"s.
I was included in something that wasn't my own.
I felt whole and I felt alive. I felt loved and I felt happiness.

I said my last goodbyes.

The excitement ceased, the tears began to flow, and the memories unfolded.
Prayers were said, hands were held, and sleep swelled over my tired heart.

I woke up this morning grounded.
Grounded in reality.
Grounded in the reality of change, of life, of the future.

I felt abandoned but I know I am not.
I felt angry but didn't know at who.
I felt sad and wanted the world to stop because life was too perfect before.

I am grounded.
Grounded in reality.
Grounded in the reality of having roommates and no longer living alone.

I sit across from Kara as we read our respective books.
I lay in bed and catch up on old TV shows while she blogs.
I come home to smiles and "how was your day?"s.

My new reality isn't all bad, all lonely, all uncertain and strange.
My new reality is just that. NEW. REAL.

14 steps to the beach.
A warm cozy house.
Roommates.
New experiences.
Old friends.
Grounded.
In.
Reality.

T.B.I.Y.T.C.

Friday, May 21, 2010

Family. Is. Forever.


Come along and walk with me. I'll take you through a typical day of what has been my life for the last two years...

We'll start in the valley by saying hello to Barb on our way to class. We can make the hike up 76 stairs in the brisk morning air and wave at my freshman who were dumb enough to have taken 7:45 classes. Next we order coffee in Tu Mercado from Mandy, the girl who looks out of place on a campus full of tall, thin, and beautiful blondes. Our first class is in Loma and we chat with Dr. Reifer in the elevator and say hi to the engineering majors... all 15 of them who we know by name. After class we take a stroll across the lawn to Aromas, sit down, and within fifteen minutes talk, laugh, or cry with at least 4 "close" friends. We make our way over to Camino/Founders and smell 1952. Let's head to La Paloma for lunch and sit down with our best friends, because it's inevitable they will be there at any given moment during any given afternoon. Hiking back towards the UC, we hug, high five, and wave to fellow classmates, residents, friends, professors, coworkers, and supervisors. When we stop to use the restroom in Maher we run into Sophie Halvin our French teacher from Freshman year who smiles at us and says, "Bonjour! Ces-va?" We'll spend anywhere from 30 minutes to 3 hours in the CASA office with the funniest people we know, telling awkward stories, having dance offs, and occasionally doing work. Dinner at the SLP will prove to be quite hectic and we will know no less than 15 people. If we make it back down to the valley before 7 our day is pretty much over, but after 7 we will spend at least an hour in Mission Crossroads complaining about residents, watching youtube videos, and eating all of Barb's candy. The night ends with amazing conversations with our closest friends who we saw at least once today, then we go to sleep and wake up and do it all over again.

Now...
This routine is my life. My perfectly contented life. Occasionally I opt for the back alley to climb up instead of the stairs, or have class in the IPJ and not Loma Hall. Sometimes I'll stop in Founders Chapel and say a prayer or go for a walk behind Soles to clear my head. When it is warm outside I might sit on the lawn and laugh with my favorite people or take cover in Copley Library when papers decide to consume my life. But for the most part I don't stray from this routine. I love this routine.

Why am I rehashing every moment of my day?

Because as of Thursday, May 20th this is no longer my routine, no longer my life. I wont hike up an obscene amount of stairs on my way to class, I wont go to aromas and not have to worry about finding people to sit with, or find my best friends in La Paloma. I wont lay on the lawn with with the greatest people I know and laugh until we cry, and I wont spend countless hours in CASA or waste my evenings in Crossroads.

My world is changing as I know it, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

I've spent the last two years with this perfect community surrounding me, but my community is graduating, graduating tomorrow at 9 and 2. Everyone accept me. A month ago I would have broken down in tears just thinking about all of this, thinking about not spending every waking minute with these amazing people, not being able to make the short walk across campus to visit someone's home or have sleep-overs in Manchester. I will spend my Senior year more or less alone next year, without the people who I have grown to love so much. I will walk around aimlessly and have no one to share random fits of excitement with, but...

But last night in the midst of celebration I was reminded that these people who I have spent the last two years with are my family, and family is forever. Although there will not be 17 hour days in the library suffering from delirium, or contemplating for 20 minutes about whether or not to skip Research Methods, we will always be a family, because family is forever. I can always pick up the phone to ask imperative questions like how bees mate, or whether or not we are going to Casa Guad for happy hour before we make our way to Sandbar, and I can always drive to Point Loma when I need a shoulder to cry on. My friends, my family, wont be as accessible, but they will always be.

I sit here not with worry or sadness for the moment when every single one of my friends walks across the stage, rather I sit here full of happiness for my happiness lies in the hearts of each one of this amazing people. We are a family. We are forever.


To Matty, Kara, Rob, Laila, Bovey, Jen, Matt, and Jeff. Happy Graduation. I love you all. :)

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

God Loves You

God loves me. If you don't believe me ask the homeless man standing on the corner of Napa and Morena... he knows because he told me so.

"God loves you" repeated the homeless man over and over and over after I handed him a water bottle and a granola bar as I waited for the light to turn green on my way back to school from a long day studying for finals and starting a new job. The words rang in my ears as my heart skipped a beat "God loves you, God loves you, God loves you." Were these words really coming out of the mouth of a man covered in dirt with a small backpack and a sweatshirt full of holes? A man missing nearly half his teeth and with the blackest fingernails I had ever seen. A man who was just written a ticket by a heartless SDPD officer for jaywalking. A man whose life had been reduced to standing on a street corner with a cardboard sign that read "HELP. GOD BLESS."

This man held up the water bottle as if to get a better look at it and smiled. Smiled at a water bottle? A water bottle? Really? I was amazed and impulsively reached into the back seat of my car and grabbed another water bottle and handed it to him. He looked at me and again repeated "God loves you, God loves you, God loves you." Before the light turned green he told me he would keep the waters and granola bar in his backpack until later that night because it was going to be his dinner. My heart sank but I had nothing left to give him and then the light turned green I shot him a smile and said "have a great night" and he called after me with "GOD LOVES YOU!" as I sped away toward one of the most beautiful places I know. The University of San Diego. My home.

I have faith in humanity, actually an overwhelmingly strong faith in humanity. I truly believe that people are actually all good and shouldn't be feared, judged, mocked, or stripped of their human dignity because their life chances turned out to be less than adequate for this capitalistic world we are living in.

* How often have you avoided eye contact with the man on the corner holding a cardboard sign?
* Have you ever rolled up your window and locked your doors at the sight of a crippled woman walking toward you?
* Or perhaps you've crossed the street to avoid the teenager approaching you out of fear of being mugged?

I'll be the first to admit that I have, and on occasion still do, but in acting out of fear I reduce my chances of having experiences like the one above. I limit myself from the truth and beauty of humanity, the power of a short conversation with a stranger, the expression of immense gratitude for spare change or something to eat, and on occasion a reminder that God loves me.

As I arrived back at school, parked my car and went to eat in the cafeteria where I over-indulged on a hamburger, french fries, and a diet coke, I couldn't help but think of the injustice I witnessed over the last 30 minutes. What had been a pleasant and heartfelt exchange with a homeless man soon turned into intense feelings of anger. There is no reason, no excuse, and no justification for someone not having shelter, food, water, and safety. What is the reason behind this poor man standing on a street corner? To remind me that God loves me? The thought crossed my mind, for certainly I have lost sight of God, love, and happiness in the hectic week of paper writing, hours of studying, too much caffeine, and not enough sleep, but why does someone have to suffer so I can witness the truth of my existence - God's love?

How is it possible that a man with literally nothing remains faithful and isn't afraid to profess God's love while I, a person with a world of opportunities being handed to me on a silver platter am overcome with doubt?

I have trouble comprehending situations like these where I am reminded of God, but then forced to doubt His existence because of the very injustice that brought him to view. God loves me, but does he love the man standing on the corner of Napa and Morena? If He does love him, and loves him equally, then why are our realities inconceivably different? How is there such injustice when God's love is ever present? How?