“Senior Year…I gotta make it better.” November 9, 2008

My senior year hasn’t been nearly as interesting, exciting, productive, or profitable as I’d plan it to be. As first semester reaches it’s final stretch, I vow to fix it. Make it better than it’s been. To achieve better grades. Seek a post grad internship. Party as hard as I can. On the weekdays. On the weekends. Work as hard as I can. Make enough money to pay my bills and enjoy life after. I vow to look back on my senior year and smile, even when I’m too old to.

            I vow to create a second semester that generates more memories than a Facebook album can hold, have more laughs than my lungs can take and smile harder than my cheeks allow.

“Having a best friend…It’s a beautiful thing.” October 6, 2008

            I believe that associates are easy to find, friends are a little complicated and best friends are almost impossible. Lucky for me I found two people that I call my best friend. My best friend Lakisha I have known since 4^th grade. My best friend Kayla I met my freshman year at Hampton. It’s crazy but I have probably two of the best friends a person can ask for. Always down to have a good time and a good conversation these two have been with me at my highest and lowest moments.

            These friendships have withstood the test of time and our share of arguments. Yet, through it all I have remained friends with both. Both were with me through my breakup with my fiancée and through my journey at college, two things that have shaped me as a person in a huge way.

            I love Kisha for always sharing a laugh and my exact thoughts on almost every subject. Although we’ve both grown and changed a lot from those two little girls who met in grade school we have both remained true to each other. No friendship comes before hers. We’ve always said that we would be godmothers to each other’s child and now is my turn. My little goddaughter will be born in January and I can’t contain my excitement. I know I’ll love her as much as I love my best friend.

            I love Kayla because in addition to having deep conversations she is hilarious. By far one of the funniest people I have ever met. She is always down for a good time and ready to make a fool of ourselves laughing at whatever. We’ve seen a lot of friendships come and go while being at Hampton and ours has stayed the same. In fact, it’s grown closer. No matter how many friends or associates we have we know that we are each other’s best friend at Hampton.

            I have two best friends, one from back home who moved to Atlanta and one who is here at Hampton with me who lives in Boston. Knowing I have friends who are across the country and I feel their love at all times is comforting. I love my best friends.

“It’s so important to ‘Eat Pray Love’.” October 5, 2008

            Over the summer I read an interesting nonfiction book, Eat Pray Love, by Elizabeth Gilbert. In the book she traveled to three countries after a messy divorce and bout with depression. In these three countries she focused on pursuing three different things.

In Italy, she focused entirely on the idea of pleasure and the pursuit of it. She woke up everyday to do nothing but eat, sight see and attend her Italian language class. She met friends, traveled all over Italy and focused on nothing but her pleasure. After leaving her husband and going through a long divorce she was miserable. She focused on her idea of pleasure and challenged herself to find exactly what brought her pleasure. And though she learned a new language, met many friends and ate amazing food, her true pleasure derived from her freedom. Her ability to just be happy and content with fulfilling her own wishes and desires brought her pleasure.

In India, she spent her time in an Ashram meditating and studying the teachings of her Guru. By practicing meditation and yoga she focused on devotion. She spent all her time performing duties, meeting people and meditating in the Ashram. The entire time she was in India she only ventured off the Ashram compound a few times. It was interesting to see her trials and triumphs in her pursuit of devotion. At times she struggled with learning to meditate for hours and being able to truly sit down and focus solely on her chanting. She also struggled with an extremely long chant that was done entirely in Sanskrit. There were times that she faced depression and her newfound friends at the Ashram helped her. She also met several Indian people who taught her life lessons.

In Indonesia, she arrived in the country and had no clue as to her plans. She had no idea where to go, who to meet, or any type of idea on how to complete her new goal: the pursuit of balance between pleasure and devotion. Too often we must choose one over the other, pleasure or devotion. Seemingly, right or wrong. Yet, Gilbert learned to balance both. In the mornings she would visit a medicine doctor who would teach her lessons and help with a new method of meditation. In the evenings she would visit and travel with a man who later became her boyfriend. She learned to divide her time so that both parts of her being, body and spirit, would be satisfied. Though I believe that some of her actions contradicted others, she received her own personal balance.

Her book of self reflection made me do a bit of my own throughout the book. It made me examine my religion, my happiness and how well I balance both. I thoroughly enjoyed the book and it made me realize the value of finding things that you deem important and focusing on them. The questions she asks of herself make you ask the same of yourself. What do I deem important? What makes me happy? How do I choose to satisfy that happiness? Who do I recognize as being the all mighty being that provides all? How do I show my gratitude? How much time do I devote it? These are questions that can only be answered within and then shown outwardly. It has to happen on the inside and through self reflection.

“I Hate Blogging.”

             I think all day long about a million things all at one time. Most that I feel extremely passionate about. There are topics that I could have heated discussions or fervent conversations about for hours on end. Yet when it comes to blogging I draw a blank.

Or so it seems.

The thoughts still rush forward and I still have those million things on my brain but my page stays blank. My mind’s racing but my hands are sitting still. Poised to stroke the keys and produce brilliance.

That’s the problem.

            I’m so ready to create a blog that would shock and amaze that I can find few things to write that I feel for.

I’m on the politics kick, but I’m tired of talking, debating, discussing and writing about politics. In fact, I can’t wait until Nov. 4 so that we can vote, see who becomes president, and then have two weeks of talking, debating, discussing and writing about it so that we can move on. So, politics are out. Yet, there are a few situations that arise where I have to talk about it. After all, I’m pro-Obama so it’s a way for me to show my support, my own little version of campaigning for him.

            I’m an ardent self reflection person so I’m constantly thinking about my weaknesses, strengths, successes and failures. It’s only natural. I’m a control freak and I always want to have a handle on everything, especially myself. But I’m tired of worrying about the future and thinking about myself and my impending success. Or graduation, even though it’s seven months away. I’m over the self reflection for now. It’s driving me crazy. I sometimes wonder if my stressing the future will somehow will change it. I’m pretty sure it won’t unless the future includes my stay at a mental hospital. Just kidding of course but it’s almost pointless. At least the extent at which I fret is. So, I’m done with it. Until the next moment in my life that occurs that makes me question my future. So, until tomorrow, I’m done with the self reflection.

            I’ve got about a billion other topics that race across my mind. Some things sit for a second and then leave only to be thought of when the next thing that reminds me of that topic in the first place comes up again. Then there are some things that are so pressing on my mind that they are constantly watching over me. Sitting in my brain and putting blinders on everything I see related to the issue. Regardless of their frequency, urgency, or relativity, they all flee when it’s time to blog. My page stays blank until some thought hits me like a strike of lightning and forces me to put my thoughts down for the world to see.

            In short, I hate blogging. It makes me think too much. : )

“My Measure of Success” September 29, 2008

         I’ve always dreamed that after graduation I’d wake up in some big city in my spacious condo, head off to my cushy job at a large magazine, dressed in clothes from my expansive and packed closet and edit others’ work while occasionally writing my own articles, the biggest exclusives, of course.

       In short I wanted to conquer the world, straight out of Hampton with a freshly printed degree in my hand.

      But the world doesn’t work that way. It can’t. Because if it did work that way, no one would truly work hard anymore. After all, earning the editorial spot in a magazine with a circulation of over a million takes work. Even the spacious condo and expensive clothes take work. Anything worth truly possessing does.

     Few can say that they’ve earned the salary, endless amenities and boundless opportunities life has afforded them without true hard work. And if they have, even fewer cherish it. It’s because it’s been handed to them, passed down from generation to generation in a way no more challenging than a great-grandmother’s recipe for peach cobbler. It’s always been there. And to them it always will.

      Yet for the many who’ve had to pound the pavement to achieve that entry-level job with menial pay or even worse, attain an internship that pays no wage but provides infinite wisdom, the end result is more than rewarding. In fact, it’s the sweetest thing worth having because it was accomplished by one’s own will, determination, plain old blood, sweat and tears.

      Too many times, we’ve taken today’s opportunities and misconstrued their purpose. Their definition has remained the same but our perception of them has changed over time. Yes, becoming rich has become easier, but possessing personal wealth has not. Collecting money isn’t everything if the personal wealth, financially and most importantly, personally and spiritually, is not there.

        Becoming a person who has an amazing work ethic, possesses an extreme amount of dedication to success and a drive that rivals even the wealthiest of businessman is what’s important. Success isn’t measured in dollars and cents, doesn’t come with a price attached to a home and isn’t available with a new pair of designer shoes, it’s measured in the constant pursuit of it. True triumph doesn’t come without trial and no success is true without stress.

        Success, or at least my view of it, must always be strived for and yearned after. Only then, after reflecting over a lifetime and assessing one’s determination to continue pursuing your personal best can one deem themselves successful. It doesn’t come overnight and it isn’t easy, nothing truly valuable in life is.

“The Power of Chosen Words” September 22, 2008

          Failure has and will always be my biggest motivation. I fear it, despite it and run desperately from like my bachelor’s degree is the North Star and if I could just keep my eye on it; I’d make it to freedom, financial stability and independence.

            It seems my fear of failure has tripled since being in college. It has almost consumed me, taken over my whole life. I’ve had nightmares about it, daydreamed about it.

            I have been constantly worrying about not measuring up to my idealistic future plans that I believe I developed a mild anxiety about it. Although my grades are good, I’ve achieved almost everything I’ve put my mind to in the last three years, I have an extreme fear that I won’t be successful after graduation. I’m not sure where it came from, why it’s there or when it’ll leave but it’s there. A seemingly permanent fixture in the back of my mind.

            Yet this summer I had a revelation. My pastor came up to me one day at church and simply said, “Let it go. You’ve been holding on to it for so long, just let it go.”

            And I did.

It wasn’t until I finally released my grip on that fear that I didn’t realize just how hard I was holding on to it. With those simple words I got the power and confirmation I needed to just let it go. I opened my hand, stretched my fingers and as scary as it was I freed myself from my unreasonable expectations. And I almost didn’t let it go; after all it had been a close companion for years. Not really a friend but just someone who was always there.

Unbeknownst to her, my pastor had given me the affirmation to liberate my fears. To breathe deep.

To challenge myself but not exhaust myself.

And it felt good.