bloom and grow

Two years ago, this weekend, people from across the globe came to my family's farm in Pennsylvania to celebrate the life of my grandmother, my PawPaw. Family, friends, neighbors, students, patients, and acquaintances from all over the US and multiple nations. They brought with them flowers, memories, smiles, tears, and more love than I can figure out how to express through words.

I have always known how extremely lucky I am to be the granddaughter of a truly remarkable, generous woman. Aside from living an extraordinary life, Clara Coan left community and love wherever she went. In her many world travels, she would forge random, lifelong friendships. As a school nurse, she provided a haven for many students who continued to write her letters and visit her up until the final days of her hospice care. And as for the family that she loved so much, we were left with the realization that she had given us a gift of love and gratitude that we could not help but to pass along.

I remember spending dinners at my grandparents' farmhouse, dinners that were almost always accompanied by endless stories and delicious food and, most importantly, as many people as PawPaw could wrangle into joining us at the table. Family friends were, in her eyes, simply an extension of her blood relatives. 

When I was a junior in high school, there had been a kitchen fire and my grandparents were living out of a mobile home for a few months while they remodeled. During that time, PawPaw wrote me a letter expressing her yearning to get back into her kitchen so that she could host and be surrounded by the people she loved again: "as I'm sure you can remember, our house was always full of friends (of course, family) which made me the happiest. So may that happen again in the Fall when we return to a house where it can be full again."

These words are all you need to hear to understand the spirit of this woman. She was a wordsmith who taught her daughters and grandchildren that communication is a crucial part of being an effective citizen of the world. Her people made her happy, and in turn her full kitchen provided happiness to all of us in a most profound way. 

She spent her life in service to others. Whether that was in a formal position (doing volunteer work, hosting traditional Chinese dinners as a donation to organizations that she cared about, or in her job as a school nurse), or in the simple acts of kindness that she sprinkled into everyday life. She was an open-hearted, open-minded, open-armed human who believed in the potential of humanity to achieve peace and harmony. She had respect for all faiths and nonviolent practices. She strongly advocated for education and gender equality. She participated in sit-ins as part of the civil rights movement and encouraged her children to dedicate their lives to bettering the world in whatever way they knew best.

When she went into hospice care, family and friends flocked from all over to care for her, bring food, say their see-you-laters, and to simply be in that love-filled home with the community that she had fostered. I watched as friends would filter in and out of her room, sharing stories and processing their grief. There was food (always her way of gathering us all), confusion, sharing, pain, and music. Over the course of those weeks, I learned even more about the impact that PawPaw had on each person she interacted with. Each and every person who wrote letters, emailed, called, or visited had a vivid and profound story of how Clara had changed their life for the better. 

She did nothing but spread love. And as I sat in the corner of her room, and later at the kitchen table, I realized how precious the gift of her love was to all of us. Grief and loss are terribly confusing things. We all broke down during her hospice care. We each tore apart bit by bit as we processed the loss of this beautiful woman who we all adore. I saw family members cry in ways I had never seen before. I witnessed personal moments of pain and gratitude that I will never forget. As painful as it all was, there came a point that I think we all realized that...perhaps this was her final gift. Perhaps this community that she fostered over the course of her life was what would keep us all from cracking completely. And perhaps, even the harrowing experience of her last few weeks was a way for her to remind us of the love that matters so deeply to our shared humanity and joy.

Two months after she passed away, we held a "Day for Clara" weekend of memory and celebration. In Quaker tradition, there was a memorial service to be held under a big, beautiful white tent on the back lawn of the farm. Chairs were set up facing in towards each other, and the flowers along the garden wall were in full bloom. One by one, 'when the spirit moved them,' people stood and shared their memories, their dedications, their songs. Tears flowed and laughter spread over us like a soft blanket. 

Unsure that I would be able to speak without choking up, I felt compelled to stand and speak. I shared a thought that had been percolating for a long time. I gazed out over the sea of faces that meant so much to my grandmother, and I shook my head. I said that this, this community, this family, is what made her happy, and that I found this to be the perfect way of honoring her impact on us all. I said that, as I had watched everyone walk past the house and her memorial garden, I was overwhelmed with joy... knowing that so many people would come from so many places to share and celebrate a woman who shared and celebrated each of us. 

Of course I did cry, but I didn't feel drained. I felt like I had been given this gift of understanding what love and acceptance really are, and I was (and am) profusely grateful. 

Time and time again I have heard stories and memories from friends she knew throughout her entire life. There is a common thread that ties them together and affirms to me the idea that PawPaw was a singular, incredible person, and that the love and generosity she shared with the world was not at all common. This thread, in my artistic mind, glows pure red (her favorite color and a symbol of luck). Under that tent two years ago, that thread thickened, growing stronger and pulling people together. That thread is a part of each of us now, and we spread bits of that spirit wherever we go as well. Whether we have made conscious decisions to be more generous like Clara, or whether it simply was modeled for us that being kind is the best way to live.

I am grateful, today and always, for the open mind, open heart, and open arms that my PawPaw fostered. As I have been watching all the events of the world these past few months, grappling with the blatant hatred and ignorance and greed, I have had to hold on to that love and remember that you cannot fight fire with fire... you cannot extinguish hate with more rhetoric. It takes love. And I feel now more than ever that I (we) need to be more generous and vocal about the things that matter. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is this:

Whether you knew Clara or not, and whether you know anyone like her or not, know that a life well-loved is a life well-lived. Know that your kindness will not go unnoticed. Know that your hope is not futile. Know that your life and your mind and your heart are valuable and can create beautiful things. Know that people are joy. That family is precisely what you make it. That you have to stand up for love and equality, and that you might not see that dream come to fruition but at least your strength in the face of bigotry might make this world a little safer for the next generation. Know that open arms make for the happiest lives. That the color of your skin and the people you love do not determine your worth as a human. That the diversity of your faith, your nationality, and your gender are things to be celebrated and embraced, not hidden or demeaned.

I share this memory in the hopes that some of us might find strength anew to fight for love. Thank you for listening. May you bloom and grow forever... 

first day of my life

As I sit down to write, really write, for the first time in a very long time, I realize how much my life has changed since I last shared my writing. Since the start of my sophomore year of college, I have begun a new regimen to support my mental health and decided to take (indefinite) time off from school in order to dive head first into the professional theatre world.

In addition to the wonderful evolution that has taken place in my personal sphere, including interpersonal progress, affirmation of family, and a ton of intentional self-love, I think that I have finally grown into the person I have always wanted to be. Of course, things are never perfect, and I have to work on my financial management and communication skills, but overall... I dunno, life is just really special right now.

I have had the past two years to process my grandmother's death, and all the lessons that came to us during her time in hospice care. All the stories, the goodbyes, the realizations. I still carry with me a piece of that experience every single day. It is there in the way that I care for my friends, the way that I choose to live in the moment, and the way that I look at the concept of "family."

This summer, I have been attempting to write out a reflection on that experience, and on my grandmother, my PawPaw in general. It is hard not to get wrapped up in single significant instances. I find myself perpetually distracted by the many fascinating details of her life, as well as the intricacies of my memories of her.

When I made the decision to take time off from college, I had been in a rough place for a while. I was constantly stressed, unhappy, and feeling as if I was climbing stairs to nowhere with regard to the career I wanted to follow- a career that my PawPaw had always enthusiastically encouraged me to pursue. With the help of some wise mentors and supportive friends/family, I came to the conclusion that it was time for me to throw myself into my dreams.

A little worried at the reaction I might get from family members, I tentatively announced to my grandfather (whose vulnerability since PawPaw's passing has humanized him to me more than I could have imagines) that I would be taking time away from school to pursue auditions and performance/choreographic opportunities. Knowing my PawPaw had valued higher education, I worried that this news might come as a disappointment, or at least spark some severe concern.

To my surprise, he smiled and said, "That's wonderful. Good for you." He asked me what my goals are in the world of theatre, and told him: to perform and dance as much as I can, and eventually choreograph. "I just want to tell stories." His smile broadened, and with actual tears in his eyes, he said, "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that."

To have such support and such faith from him was all I needed to feel that I am ready to live the life I imagined. I am so lucky that the thing I want to do does not require a degree to succeed- only hard work, passion, and a willingness to learn and grow in any setting. I am also lucky that I have a support system that values and respects the arts. My family and friends see that art requires intelligence and skill. They understand that art can change the world, or at least tell stories, provide emotional support, and fuel our souls.

I will certainly return with more musings on art and my PawPaw, but for now, I just felt that I had to project some of my gratitude out into the universe. I am so, so thankful for the opportunities that have been placed before me, and for the love and lessons that brought me to a place where I feel secure throwing caution to the wind and leaping into uncertainty. Cheers to new beginnings.

land of opportunity

I've been back in the city for less than a month now, my second year of college and my second year living here in Manhattan. I'm the luckiest kid in the world for this. I know that. I get the luxury of living in the greatest city in world while I study things in which I am genuinely interested. I wake up every morning and get to spend my day dancing and talking about dance- what more could I ask for?

But of course it's not that simple. Being in "art school" as I've started calling this experience, is a constant push-and-pull, questioning your passion and potential. Most days feel uncertain and scary, and I go to bed almost sure that I have made a horrible, irreversible mistake by choosing this path. But every now and then there are those affirming moments, when you are reminded of why you chose this city and why you chose this major. These moments can be small, and are often fleeting, but they still come.

I think- I know- that this probably holds true for any college student, or any given person for that matter, whether they are pursuing the arts or not. I find, every time I get in a funk over whether I'm wasting my time on a pipe dream, that the people around me have equally experienced doubt and fear. It doesn't matter whether you've been perfecting your craft of teaching for 20 years or if you've only recently found a passion for doing community theater. Every single person out there experiences the same fluctuation. It's just the nature of life and careers and passions and everything that comes along with those.

It seems to me that we all get so caught up in "making the right decision" for ourselves or our careers, that we sometimes can't see the silver linings and successes all around us. We lose our grip on the reality that we have made it THIS FAR and not collapsed. That we continue to get up everyday and walk to our ridiculously early classes and work our butts off, even if we really do not feel up to the challenge that day. We forget that we also have more choices and opportunities than ever before. If this truly wasn't a journey you were meant to take, you have the ability to switch courses, and in many cases, keep your passion a part of your life anyways.

Besides, while it's nice to be prepared and planning for one specific goal, you don't have to do just the one thing you always kind of thought you would do (or should do). As people, we are constantly changing, so who's to say that our dreams can't change too?

Changing your course should never feel like giving up or not following through. Our society has trained us to believe that there is a specific path that we must take to achieve "success," and that if we do not follow our one big dream, we are not living up to our full potential. While there is nothing wrong with following the set steps to success, or pursuing your heart's passion, it's simply impossible for everyone to do this AND feel fulfilled and/or happy.

It's so easy to get lost in anxiety and worry about the future. There's merit to the planning and the concern, but it's just unhealthy to let that consume your life. I'll tell you a secret I've gathered through many, many conversations with many, many people of various ages and backgrounds: nothing ever happens the way you plan it. So why live in a constant state of stress?

There is ALWAYS a way to make it work, to follow your dreams, to achieve your goals, even to live in a state of occasional certainty. At the end of the day, if you have a roof over your head and a few good friends, you will be fine. There are no wrong choices when it comes to our careers, unless you go into a situation that you know will bring only negativity into your life.

Look- we're all just scared little kids who don't know what we want to be when we grow up, or where we want to live. We're all terrified of being seen, and somehow equally scared of becoming completely invisible. Somewhere along the way, visibility and success became synonymous with each other, and I think that's a huge contributor to the anxieties of young people (all people) today.

I don't have the answers for how to solve this, but I do know that taking a deep breath and a step back can make a world of difference. I guess I'm just trying to say that, right now, regardless of your spiritual beliefs, you are exactly where you need to be. So be there. Be present, and acknowledge the incredible things you had to do to get to this point.
"Tomorrow does not exist, because when it comes, it's already today." -anonymous

i will write you a song

(somehow this got deleted, but it's one of my favorites, so I'm re-posting :)

*originally published Saturday, December 8, 2012*

Six years ago, I was given a letter accompanied by a little flower pot with gorgeous red designs on the sides and an elegant red flower in it. The letter was written to me by two people who are very near and dear to my heart. They have inspired me my whole life, and I still consider them to be family, even though we aren't related by blood.

"We hope that you keep believing in yourself and all of the great things you can achieve. Always follow your heart and don't let anything stand in the way of your dreams."

Their letter provided the foundation for the next six years of my life. It may not have been intentional, but their words follow me every day. They told me how much they believed in me. They told me that I was wonderful and to follow my dreams till the end of the earth.

That letter hangs on my wall to this day, reminding me every morning how to look at life, to always follow my heart. I was so flattered by the letter that I have taken words as my own, if that makes sense. That piece of paper is the reason I write this blog. It's the reason I've always loved writing thoughtful notes to friends. Those two people do not realize how much they have affected me.

Now, I'm not entirely sure why I'm sharing this with you. But, I feel I owe these people a gigantic thank-you. They made me believe that I could lasso the moon if I wanted to, and to this day, thinking about their words makes me feel invincible.

I would like to think that my words have done the same for some people. I know, that's slightly arrogant and possibly bordering on pompous, but I know firsthand the power of a heartfelt message, and I want everyone to feel the same joy I felt when I received that letter.

Words can really change the way someone sees a situation.

Your words have the power to help someone else find some inspiration, even if they aren't in a bad place. Just please consider telling the people you love how much you believe in them. I know that is tacky and outdated and super schmaltzy, but I don't think the world sees enough honest praise.

All I see is a bunch of criticism coming from every direction, and a HIGHLY impersonal notion that everyone is "special," without any real evidence to make us believe it.

If people were unafraid to tell each other how highly they think of each other, without fear of seeming fake or cheesy, the world would be a lot more happy. I think so, anyway. Just consider it.

rarely pure and never simple

I (unconsciously) started writing as a kind of self-therapy. Not for any specific ailment, just some stressors that I have since affectionately dubbed “side effects of living.” At thirteen, I was your stereotypical teenage girl, plagued by stock anxiety problems, negative body image, and no idea where I wanted to go in my life.

I started writing for myself. It wasn’t an intentional exercise. Most of what I wrote was never meant to be (and never was) shared. Writing was (and still is) my way of sifting through my thoughts and trying to make sense of my feelings and the world around me.

The decision to start a blog had two reasons backing it.  1) I wanted a place to catalogue my writing, and 2) honestly, I just wanted to play around with fonts and backgrounds. I created a bio for myself, carefully chose my color scheme, and plastered a personally significant phrase on the URL. And that’s all the simplicity I needed. I never imagined that it might evolve into something that I would willingly share with people.

But it has become just that. Don’t get me wrong- I do NOT write to please others, to influence other’s opinions, or to gain some kind of unaccredited cyber-fame. But over the course of those first few posts, I ended up coming to the realization that writing gives you power.

I’m not talking exclusively about political power or social control, though writing does have strong influence in those arenas. Because we need words to communicate and articulate. Language and communication are the starting points for change. There’s personal change, of course, which leads to changes in relationships, communities, societies, and eventually, evolution on a global level. Yes, it’s incredibly over-said, but change starts on a microscopic level and ripples out, exponentially affecting progress.

Aside from the long term developments that literary musings can enact, writing (and reading) provide a platform for changing your beliefs, interpreting your thoughts, and compartmentalizing abstract concepts. When you write, you have complete control. Writing is empowerment. Because somebody is bound to listen eventually. Even if you don’t plan for anyone to hear.

One thing I've realized is that everyone, regardless of how it may seem most of the time, has something valuable and valid to share. Whether that is through writing or music or scientific research, every individual needs a way of expressing themselves. I've been lucky enough to find more than one, but the most personally specific is writing.

Writing helped me come to the conclusion that there is no better way to live than to do what you love. It gives me a chance to understand myself and figure out the people around me. I know I will never know everything I want to know, and I definitely will never be able to save any of the people I see struggling, and I most certainly can’t expect to agree entirely with my current self if I look back on my own words ten years from now. But that’s alright. Because for right now, I have this. I have coffee shop napkins and post-it notes. I have Microsoft Word and countless half-filled notebooks. And I have the ability to write as many letters and unpublished blog posts as I want.

Honestly, that is what I cherish most about writing. It doesn't have to be for anyone but yourself.

as they dissipate like snowflakes in an ocean

Forgive yourself each night and recommit every morning.

You must allow your cares to dissipate. You will find that it is necessary to let some things go; simply for the reason that they are heavy. Everything will resolve in its own time. We as a society are very uncomfortable with the idea of leaving without closure. But not every situation needs to be tied up before you leave it behind. It's really difficult for us to let go.

But letting go is not the same as giving up. Just as disappointment is not synonymous with discouragement.

It simply isn't worth it to waste your time and energy on problems that you can't fix or people who don't give you the time of day. It's pointless to wallow in stress over events of the past. At the same time, it is futile to chase people. Those who are meant to be in your life will find their way back to you on their own. Let go of relationships that no longer can teach you. Life is meant to spent doing what fulfills you, with people who you feel happy around.

Stay away from people who make you feel like you are hard to love. Surround yourself instead with people whom you desire to emulate. People who care about your opinions and respect your actions. People who may or may not implicitly understand you, but who are open to getting to know who you truly are. These are the people who deserve your attention. You shouldn't feel that you have to apologize for yourself.

"You didn't come here to master unconditional love. That is where you came from and where you'll return. You came here to learn personal love. Universal love. Messy love. Crazy love. Broken love. Whole love. Infused with divinity. Lived through the grace of stumbling. Demonstrated through the beauty of messing up. Often. You didn't come here to be perfect. You already are. You came here to be gorgeously human. Flawed and fabulous."

let the sun shine

Some people are just so bright and joyful that their happiness is infectious. It's just in their nature. It seems impossible that a person could be so positive all the time, but some people manage to pull it off. I often find that I either envy or am annoyed by people like this. But I've realized that there is nothing wrong with being a truly iridescent individual.

Teenagers in today's world are expected to have angst and sulk the days away. We are predicted to be sullen and moody, and make huge deals out of nothing. We are looked down upon for those qualities. But I'm realizing that most people don't age out of the angst and despair. A lot of adults harbor those same characteristics. So why aren't we being taught how to manage our emotions now and flip our perspective on the world so that life will be more bearable- enjoyable even?

I've just decided that since I am the only person who can determine how I feel, I shouldn't waste my time being mad at myself or worrying about stupid high school drama or feeling socially awkward or missing people who have drifted away.

Certainly, every emotion is valid, and every thought deserves to be honored, but negativity is often amplified to a level that is probably unhealthy. I know that I think myself in circles and get caught up in the complications of insignificant situations. I realize that I let myself get wrapped up in crazy ideas that end up hurting me when expectations and reality don't meet. I understand that a lot of my thoughts and moods are the result of teen angst, but I also believe that's not the only factor. And I know I'm not the only person who sees it that way.

"Pain and suffering are all too often side effects of an intelligent mind and a sensitive soul." Someone very wise said that once. I think that those who are most perceptive or see the most pain in the world around them are often brought down by the sadness. They live in fear and sorrow, whether they realize it or not. I think sometimes we feel as if we don't deserve to think positively. Optimism is viewed as unrealistic or silly, because if things don't work out as hoped, feelings get hurt.

The reality is that people will leave. Promises will be broken. Things will fall to pieces. It's just a fact. And as sad as that is, we can't let the sorrows of the world crush our spirits. I'm just so tired of being down all the time. It breaks my heart to see people I care about hurting. It makes me sad to watch the news or to hear about the pain of other people's lives. And I don't believe that empathy is wrong. It is important to feel the bad things and be there to support those who need you. However, we cannot let the negatives pile up and make it impossible for me to see how beautiful everything else is.

Our society has a way of shaming people for anything. Whether it is for being too sad or too enthusiastic- it is as if feeling has become a sin. But the way I see it, life consists entirely of feeling and the lessons that come with it.

That said, I'm trying to make a point of not letting my thoughts turn sour, because negativity never helped anyone. Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. Even when things get messy -especially when things get messy-, I want to be the warm yellow light that washes over the people I love.

Stop resisting the positive just because you feel you don't deserve it. Cheer up, cause in the grand scheme of things, none of these little things really matter. Grades are fairly inconsequential. Some relationships are worth letting go. You have to respect yourself enough to let go of the things that no longer help you grow or make you happy. Everyone deserves a chance to be happy, to view their world positively, to be infectiously joyful. We just have to figure out how to manage our outlook.

When it comes down to it, life is hard. Inevitably, bad crap happens. But life goes on, and we can't let the bad stuff pile up. Because while life can be incredibly painful, it is also unbelievably beautiful. If all it takes is a few deep breaths and a glistening sunrise to help you out of a funk, be sure to utilize those. The world is a gigantic, gorgeous place, and light can be found in every corner, even within ourselves. We just have to find it.

Be iridescent.