Dear Senior Year Me

Goal #13 in the 35 Before 35 list was to blog more often. It took Jacs and Kae to get me off my lapsed-writing ass but here I am. Thank you girlies. Following entry inspired by conversations with several amazing people over the last three months about growing older, facing fears, changing, and trying new things.

Dear Senior Year Me,

Your school year will start with a Philo class that changes your life in more ways than one. Your teacher is going to ask you to write down a manifesto of what you believe in and who you think you are. At this stage in your life, you think everything you write is deep and important. Make the most of that. As you grow older you realize that you are not as brave as you used to be. Life scars you. Living that out in the open makes you more likely to be hurt, makes you more likely to make mistakes. In the end what happens is that it makes you second guess decisions, makes you doubt what you stand for. Instead of leaping off cliffs, you stop to check how far you have to fall and how safe the water is below you. That's going to suck for a while. It will be in 2009 when some pretty horrific things happen to you (don't worry about that, you'll get over it, I promise even though it will feel like you never will).

And then you remember that back in 1997, you wrote a manifesto... and you will go look for it. And you'll read it. And you'll realize that person—idealistic as she was—is still there. And you make the decision to be that person again. This happens in early 2010, when you're over the 2009 incident. (See, I told you you'd get over it) It works for a while... it even inspires you to take up capoeira again. Then you forget. The world will come crowding in again. New fears, old issues. Same story.

It will take your friend Drew passing away suddenly just before New Year's eve for you to remember all over again. So you start your 2011 by reading that essay you wrote:

I am child of light

the dreamer, sky-watcher

head turned to the brillinace of

the waking world

the setting sun.

poet, dancer

creating from the world I move in.

I am not random. I will never be mediocre. I will live my life in awe of the universe. I am my most powerful weapon, my most creative tool. My identity and integrity are sacred to me. It is my firm belief that we all matter because we are human, regardless of creed, color, race or religion.

I believe in honesty, even at the risk of losing something. I believe in love and immerse myself in it wherever I can. I believe in friendship—a friend is a luxury gift you give to yourself... and conversely, a gift you give to others.

And I believe in happiness. If you know yourself, see that you are flawed but are okay with that, you can be happy. If you have your integrity and will not back down on the non-negotiables of your life, you can be happy. If you can kick your heels at the oncoming tide and dance barefoot around the edges of your life, you can be happy. Happiness comes to those who pursue life.

And you thank Drew for that final gift his passing leaves in your heart. You will decide that in 2011, that is the goal: to claim yourself all over again. It's going to be slow going. But you're doing it... looking for the old you so you can be a better version of your Senior Year self.

Now put down that beer and read that Pol Sci hand-out so you wont have to resort to praying in the chapel when you realize you're failing that class. ;)

Love,

You at 34