When the nights get a little bit colder

I wrote something.

I wrote something, and I read it, and I flinched.

How could I have written something filled with so much doubt, so much hatred and so much suspicion towards people?

I am not that dark. I  do go there, but I live in the light, still.

 I wrote something, and I erased it.

A bit embarrassed, a bit scared. If I don't believe in people, and tomorrow you don't believe in people, and next week she doesn't, soon there will be nobody left.

'Cause all that really matters, is that we hold on. 

Hold onto each other.

Hold on

Sometimes I wish I could take a peek into the future and see how things turned out. If the decision I made a year ago proved to be the right one, if the same people are still in my life and whether there is someone totally new. It would be reassuring, somehow, to know that I'll reach something. Not so pleasant if it turned out I hadn't, but still. 

Then I think that it would take the excitement out of it, of the moment of here and now, and I'd lose the element of not knowing what's going to happen. After all, not having a clue is what makes it so magical, but what if the magic just fades away and it's dull all along? Would I look back on right now and do something differently, would I see my life as a series of accomplishments and moments lived to the fullest or a stream of situations and actions, the significance of which more vague than it ever was?

I keep wishing I was already there, I can see it in front of my eyes. The whole picture of all the things that have led to it and how I'd feel. Not perfectly happy, 'cause that's a utopia. I would have found out that happiness is a decision, like love is a construction. And still, in spite of it I'd love, I'd laugh and I'd smile because I chose to and it wouldn't be all the time, but it would be enough. 

Then I come back to right now, and realize that even though I keep myself busy, I feel like drowning under expectations set mostly by myself and responsibilities taken on mostly by myself, I shake my head and let out a little laugh. Silly girl, you are already there, and even though the dream is still there too, like the most perfect glittery sticker of all of those that I used to collect, I can lift my eyes up to the reality. And say that I already know that happiness is not a permanent state, not a goal or a reward; it's in feeling and living and laughing and in the eyes of the other people. And I fall in love with being alive, since even though it's dark, cold and raining, I am here. I am here, I am me, and it's magical now. And it will keep being magical, not all the time, not every day, but it will, if I believe so.

Who knows when the moment of "being there" comes, who knows if it'll ever come. I can only think of every day as my "there" and look back on the things that brought me there. And so have a few more reasons each day, a tiny bit of more experience, a little more understanding and a lot more to find out.

Refreshing for the spirit

A brief change of scenery can be surprisingly good for you. It's been a crazy week, but a memorable one also. Celebrating mom's birthday on Monday will continue today with a surprise cottage-weekend with the entire family, which is why I've spent the day in the kitchen basically. It was a tiny bit more challenging than usually, as I am really tired from the student cruise we were at from Wednesday to yesterday. Ships are funny places, I gotta say. But what happens on the ship, stays on the ship... However, we had a blast, and now despite the coma I feel kind of reborn. Somehow I needed that, now I can concentrate again on finishing the studies for this year.

It's unbelievable how fast this fall has gone. It feels like it was just a while ago that the summer ended, and now we're almost halfway through the academic year. And, it's Christmas soon, can't wait!

Again and again

I wonder whether one of these times it'll finally sink in. I keep having the same realization over and over, just to notice that the previous one took me nowhere. The idea is so right every time, how do I keep still messing it up?

I need to change the concept of selfishness in my head. Now, I almost feel like it's pretty much the worst thing I could do, when in reality I should have a lot more of it to be normal. I matter, what I think and feel should matter in the decisions and promises I make, the actions I take to move forward in life. I should feel my own emotions before anyone else's and I should take my own chances instead of holding myself back to give the space to someone else.

I keep waking up to the thought of me, someone who doesn't really speak up. I have always relied on a figurative partner in crime, a confident, a second opinion, that I've let become the first voice that matters. I have no idea how to let go of such a concept, how do I loose the guilt that keeps asking for other people's opinion and punches mine to the ground before even I know what she was going to say?

The surface says I have it all organized, hey, I'm a camp leader and a teacher student and all that. And for many parts I do, have it together and organized in perfect order. But sometimes, which nowadays isn't that rarely, I accidentally sigh and all the flower petals I just arranged nicely fly away. 

Faces

He started to take off his mask, and everyone gasped of surprise; he had another one underneath. Was it really a surprise, though, don't we all conceal our faces with masks and painted emotions day after another? Hunting for pray, we hide ourselves behind a costume, the real creature hungry for affection.


Status, hierarchy, agendas. When did we lose the one that truly matters, how come we forgot? Friendliness fell to the ground when we ran forward with the pursue of power and personal gain, genuineness died when we willingly put on the disguise. 


And no matter how scary he looked, how people flinched when he approached their group constructed by social pressure and expectations, he still reciprocated with kindness when greeted with it. 

And I see through it, I witness the game of conditional pleasing and deliberate indifference, and I know they might see through me too, and I'm afraid they do.

Painting the canvas with imagination

A while ago in a class we watched a video of a speech about how school kills creativity. After spending almost four hours on perfecting a presentation that we refused to do as a boring generic PowerPoint slideshow, moving half of my friend's furniture to create perfect settings for photographing hand-written papers functioning as slides, and several ideas that started to get too extravagant, we finally created an elegant, creative and different presentation.

I know it took about five times more time than a really basic presentation would have, but it is partly due to the fact we haven't done anything like this before. Doesn't that already sound alarming? I feel like this and any kind of creativity should be encouraged a lot more in education. Damn, if I don't remember the points of the article the presentation summarized after all that work, I probably have a serious medical condition. There are tons of ways to present an idea, why settle for the same exact thing everyone does every single time? Besides, our presentation looks awesome and we had so much fun making it.

It might not even be about school killing creativity; I think it's more about the lack of opportunities to express yourself in artistic ways. If you had a task of presenting a novel you had to read for a class, why couldn't you make a sock puppet story, a song, a music video or a role play out of it instead of a slideshow presentation? I'm so gonna try to incorporate such methods in my teaching someday. I'd love to hear a subjunctive song or see a play demonstrating the prepositions.

In the end, we don't remember the sentences following the bullet points after some time has passed, we remember the things that made us laugh, the ones that impressed us and the ones that we couldn't take our eyes off. 

Wow, I think I should start writing about educational themes more often. I feel like I'm bursting with ideas and enthusiasm to shake up the traditions of teaching, which I understand to be also a bit naive and idealistic. I just hope I won't ever lose this enthusiasm, 'cause if I do I will be guilty of killing my own fire. And that would be just dumb, since that's the flame where my passion for teaching comes from.

Random thoughts make a story, don't they?

How do you know you're really a student? You're preparing to leave for a wine-tasting. On Monday. Yep, that's it. Only students can so sneakily organize a fancy-sounding event (which I'm sure will actually be quite fancy) that includes wine when the week is just starting. Well, on Thursday we won't even try to cover it, it's our subject organization's Halloween party.

What else is new? I'm getting back at my gym routine and I love it. It is so energizing. Plus, I'm gonna bake gluten-free American chocolate cupcakes on Wednesday. Hmm, I see the contradiction here...moving on.

What is the point of this post? I don't really know. 

Also, I found a girl who's been to Lima a year ago in the same university I'm going to, so we had lunch and I asked her everything I could think of. I can't even describe how excited I am about it. And, to make the lunch even better, there was a flash mob in the university restaurant. Seriously, how cool is that?