To Lead

Currently, I am reading a business book called The 21 Irrefutable Laws of Leadership by John C. Maxwell. I’m about halfway through, and I suppose one important, recurring theme throughout the chapters I’ve read, is the power of starting with yourself. Maxwell includes this proverb in a chapter titled The Law of Connection. I feel I must share it:

To lead yourself, use your head; to lead others, use your heart.

So Similar, Yet So Different

In the afternoon today, I took a nice walk to town center to buy some things for the house, when on the sidewalks, I passed by an old friend who I had gone to school with for six years, during my elementary years [Prekindergarten-4th]. In fifth grade, I transitioned schools, yet this friend of mine stayed at my old school. I hadn’t seen him for about 4 years, and this afternoon, he seemed so different, yet so similar. A little taller, still very skinny, still short hair. But there’s a quiet confidence in his character that I felt he once had trouble expressing. There’s a desire to engage in the conversation that he once avoided. Then I began to think about how he saw me…compared to how he saw me four years ago. And I have to say, each year I seem to grow in all directions and I’m different.

It’s been a little over a year since I published my first blog post on Revelation of the Revolution, and I’m observing how each post becomes more and more personal. I notice myself seeing the world differently after I finish reading each business/self development book and I notice myself seeing the world differently after some small inspiration in my life. I have a bigger audience on this blog than I had a year ago, and the goal of writing these posts is evolving. I think that’s part of the Revolution. The Revolution of my mentality.

I hope my mom sees the change in me as well when she does my laundry. My pants get longer over the years, and my shirts magically grow each year as she folds them into neat piles in my dresser. She longer needs to pack my lunch in the morning and when she looks in my bathroom drawer, there’s always acne cream. This is also a Revolution, my physical Revolution.

My style Revolution is one that is hard to pinpoint. I bet the friend who I saw this afternoon, still noticed my ponytail-over-hair-down preference, my sneaker-over-boots preference, my silver-over-gold preference. Yet, I know my style has evolved. I no longer wear cute little sweaters. I no longer put colorful clips in my hair. This is also a Revolution which I am proud to display.

Revelation of the Revolution. I guess this is how far I’ve come. How much I’ve grown. I perceive how different I am…more mature, ideas more developed, feelings more mindful, manners more refined. Yet I still haven’t left certain parts of me behind…my ponytail, my sneakers, my love for bracelets. I’m so similar, yet so different.

 

What Makes Me Happy

In February, I wrote about things that make me happy. Now, I feel I must follow up on that note, as in this little-over-a-half-year’s time, I have encountered more things that bring me joy. Over these past few months, I’ve traveled, I’ve explored, I’ve attempted, I’ve accepted and as a result, I’ve discovered other things that make me smile, which I will gratefully add on to my original list.

My owl figure. My parents bought me this owl in the Canadian Rockies this past summer. Really, I don’t know why they sell so many of these figures in Alberta, considering the artist who crafts these figures is actually based in Montevideo, the capital of Uruguay. It is the intricate details, the warmth of the colors and the curiosity of the owl’s eyes that draw me into these figure.

My little owl

Thoughtfulls Pop-Open Cards. When I need inspiration, when I covet hope, when I desire advice, when I need to be reminded to have a positive outlook in life, I open a Thoughtfulls Cheer Pop-Open Card. Sure it’s small, but it’s colorful, it’s bright, and behind each closed cover, there lies a little light; a quote. Yet before I pop open the little door to the card, I stop and think about why I’m opening it. This I consider my mindful moment. I ask myself, What are you feeling? What is bothering or cheering you up today? Are you being aware of your emotions? Then, I scribble a little note on the back of the card which includes the date, my emotions and what’s currently going on in my life. I go forth, open the card and finally, read the quote.

CHEERS Box

Mindful Moment here

One of my favorites that I've opened.

Face changing statue. My mother visited China in September, and my aunt told my mother to give this statue to me. I find it quite interesting. In some Chinese performances, the singers/dancers would wave a fan in front of their faces and change their masks. This particular model has four different masks, and I like to think of them as various moods. One of them represents stress, another anger, the green one happiness and the fourth serenity and peace. Everyday, I will walk over to the bookshelf where this little guy sits, and I will press the little knob at the top of its head to express an oversimplified version of my emotions that day.

My stress "face"

My happy "face"

Changing faces

A neat room. For me, neatness is not new. It has been a part of me since I was young. I remember when I was six years old, I would go around the house, organizing all of the papers, books and mail on the tables and scrub the kitchen counter and bathroom sink faucets until they barely show a single stain. I find happiness in neat and clean rooms because I like the feeling of everything having a “home.” And when everything has–and is in–its home, I hope that few disarrayed items become a hinderance to the flow of my life.

Departing Question: What makes you happy?

Before the Sunrise

Before the sunrise and my alarm clock, I am out of bed. It’s early, in the dawn of morning, and the heat in the house has merely turned on. It is dark as I slip out of bed,

Sunrise at Lake Louise

searching the ground for my slippers. Then I walk down the stairs to the first floor of the house as quietly as possible, attempting to avoid the creaks that sing in the floorboards. I start enjoying my breakfast, and read while I’m at it.

People often ask me why I wake up at 6 o’clock every morning [weekends included]. And I often think about how my day would be different if I slept in because I do put an honest effort into getting more sleep. However, I find that as soon as my consciousness kicks in at 6 in the morning, I can no longer return to my pillow.

So I’m downstairs on the first floor of my house, studying, reading Science of Us articles, eating and relaxing. I suppose it’s not a bad thing that I wake up early, before my alarm clock. I find that being alone and giving myself that extra hour to pull myself together in the morning helps me remain calmer throughout my day. It’s almost like I’m given more time in a day…I’m not rushing to finish breakfast or putting stress on myself to brush my teeth faster. And the thing is, I don’t feel tired throughout the day. I feel almost more energized, like my body has been given the time it needs to “warm up.”. Before the sunrise, I am awake and running, reading and studying, prepping myself for the day ahead.

AISNE's 2016 Diversity Conference

It is a “Call To Action.” I like how they put that.

Program from the Diversity Conference

Each year, the American Independent Schools of New England [AISNE] has a Diversity Conference for independent middle schools throughout New England [high schoolers have their own version, which is national]. Yesterday, I was fortunate enough to attend the 2016 conference which was hosted at Thayer Academy with a small group of kids from school and my history teacher.

The conference began at 9:00, so we were required to leave campus at 8:30. We arrived at Thayer on time. The day started off in the auditorium, where a group of Hip-Hop performers talked about how certain raps showed diversity and assimilation of certain groups. These performers danced, sang, and explained where they grew up and how diversity played a role in their childhood. As the audience, we were even requested to stand up what space we had in the auditorium and dance along with them.

The following hour, the 300 kids who attended the conference split up into separate workshops throughout Thayer’s campus. Prior to Saturday, my history teacher sent me a workshop sign up sheet. I was part of the Privilege workshop, which was one of my top choices.

***

Privilege. Walking into that workshop, I perceived it to be serious, solemn and wary. I will say that I my idea was quite disillusioned. My favorite activity that took place in the Privilege workshop was discussing three questions, which the instructors of the workshop projected on the whiteboard. I can’t remember the exact wording of the three questions, however I have included the main ideas of them below.

1. What does privilege give to those who have it? How are they given an advantage?
2. What circumstances does having privilege give an advantage?
3. How can we use the privilege we are given?

This was just a rough remembering of the questions, yet I found the first one piqued my interest the most. We were sitting on the floor in a collaborative circle and for question 1, many kids mentioned having food on a plate or knowing when your next meal came from. This discussion truly brought awareness to the privilege I am given; attending an independent school, knowing where my next meal is coming from, having a roof over my head every night. These are just 3 of the many privileges I sometimes take for granted. I think this awareness is really important to possess.

I noticed that during the beginning part of the discussion, I was surprisingly quiet since these are topics that I feel passionate about addressing. Yet later, I found my voice in the conversation, and I talked about privilege giving us opportunity. I believe that if someone has privilege, it may give them more opportunity in life, because they have the resources [proper nutrition, housing, education etc] to support these desires. It’s kind of like they have many open paths in life, with few boulders in blocking the entrances. I couldn’t even believe these words were coming out of my mouth since I’d never considered the topic in quite as much depth as I had yesterday. But it began to hit me as my ideas flowed through my mind. The idea of opportunity began to be more clearly expressed as I continued talking expanding this idea. And as I voiced all my opinions, I noticed myself beginning to see the word privileged differently.

Following this meaningful discussion, the group did an exercise. We all stood in one straight line across the width of the classroom. Around 20 statements were read one at a time, and if the statement applied to you, you would take a small step forwards. I will list some statements that were mentioned. I will admit, I ended up towards the back of the room, but in some ways, that was impetus for me to work harder.

• Step forwards if you know where your next meal is coming from.
• Step backwards if you take public transportation.
• Step forwards if you own 50 of more books in your house.
• Step backwards if you feel unsafe walking alone on the streets at night.
• Step backwards if your ethnicity has ever been ridiculed.
• Step forwards if you have connections that helped you in achieve, get accepted into, or succeeded in some form.

***

Yesterday brought a different light to my perception of privilege. I would have never considered feeling safe walking on the streets a privilege, or owning more than 50 books in your house. I feel fortunate that I’m living the life I’m living. I’m privileged. I just need to remember it more.

Halloween, Autumn and My Observations

Halloween was this past Monday and it already feels like it’s been awhile since as I drown in my homework. I’ve never been the biggest fan of trick-or-treating and for me, it feels like I should be giving out the candy. Mostly, I find myself tagging along with my friends so I can give myself another opportunity to engage in social activities with my peers outside of school.

Halloween is an interesting holiday for me because it marks the commencement of autumn. It symbolizes red leaves, falling leaves, and letting go. When I go trick-or-treating each year, my favorite thing to observe are the pumpkins. Not just the size, shape and color of each pumpkin, but its decoration and its carvings. Some pumpkins are decorated with sparkles, googly eyes and feathers, blinking with the luminous lights of candles. Others have spider and witch carvings. Some are traditional. Others eccentric. But all beautiful in their own ways.  

In a way, each pumpkin is like another opportunity. Each one is slightly different than the last. It is like opportunities are knocking on my door on Halloween night. What a sight.

In addition, I want to mention my observation of time after Halloween; the year always ends rapidly. Thanksgiving goes by and before you know it Christmas, followed directly by the New Year. Autumn and then winter. I notice what it brings. I will try to welcome it and cherish it. This is life. Just going by.

Photo I took on my walk home from school. The red of the trees is what makes me so in love with autumn.

The Value of a Voice

Yesterday, I went to my weekly piano lesson with my private teacher. I’ve been studying piano with this teacher for about 7 years?…it’s been a while. Now, yesterday in particular was interesting because the first conversation we had was irrelevant to piano and it was more only somewhat relevant to history, which we were talking about since I’m attending a Diversity Conference next week.

Maria Callas. One of the greatest opera singers of all time. My teacher and I were discussing the beauty, the controversy and the brilliance of Callas’s voice. At home, I listened to her most famous opera, Norma Casta Diva and I was astonished by the subtle and dramatic changes Callas was able to produce with her voice alone. It sounded almost as if three people were singing the piece. In addition, I found a wonderful NPR podcast which briefly covers  Maria’s life.

But Maria lost something quite important for any singer at a young age: the brilliance of her voice. Specialists advised her to retire in her forties, which is young for an opera singer. And when I heard my teacher saying this to me, it struck me, as I had never considered what it would be like to lose my voice. Callas could still talk, but singing became quite difficult and strained.

I feel quite fortunate to live in New England where my voice does matter and it is heard. Many places in the world still do not appreciate the voices of women and in some ways, I believe that it is a social and cultural construction. So when I consider what I value most about myself, I would say my voice. When I think about all the things I am able to do with my voice, all of the ways I am able to portray my feelings with my voice and all the possibilities my voice could bring about, I feel really grateful for the gift am I given and often take for granted.

I wonder…

Sometimes I wonder whether there is someone controlling the fate of our world…whether there is someone manipulating the fate of each individual. Some people believe in the free will theory while others believe in luck and a vast number of the population believes in some form of God. I consider myself an atheist, but recently I’ve been questioning my belief. Here’s why.

***

During our free block everyday, many kids go outside to play basketball on the court. Surrounding the court, are a several picnic tables, where students each lunch when the weather permits. This particular study period lead me outside to the picnic tables, where some other students were studying. I admit I was only half doing my homework, half observing the game. Suddenly, one boy decided to throw the basketball at the net from the halfway point on the

court. Epically missing, the ball soared over the backboard of the hoop and I watched it sail through the air, falling straight for the picnic tables and the students who were focusing on their homework. I wanted to shout “heads up!” but I couldn’t find my voice. The ball came soaring down, merely missing the head of one girl by inches and bounced futily in the center of the table. I’m not exaggerating. The ball missed by inches. If the ball had been released one second earlier, if the wind had not carried it a few inches further, and if the girl’s head hadn’t been as close to the edge of the picnic table, then surely the ball would have hit and caused a serious injury.

***

I’m so genuinely appreciative for still being alive and fairly well. From that basketball situation I realized how assailable we are any time of day. Yet I still wonder, is someone controlling this fate? Is someone, is something altering our fates? If so, I wonder, when certain evasions of death like this occur, and someone else in another part of the planet is in an ambulance, is that person being forgotten? I guess all we can effectively do if appreciate the life we have. To its fullest extent. I once published a quote about cherishing life’s and its opportunities and I will reiterate it here:

“No one can confidently say that he will still be living tomorrow." ~Euripides

I understand I am the pilot of my life. I am the driver, the captain, the general of most of it at least and I have the discretion to make decisions everyday that will impact my future. Yet sometimes events that occur right before my eyes make me unsure whether someone/something is manipulating at least part of my fate. I do not think I’ll ever find out. But I know I’ll keep wondering.

Introvertive

I am known as a typically cheerful girl, though when school and stress find their ways into my mind, I am susceptible to becoming irascible. My optimism is most evidently seen through my smile, yet other times, I find my happiness radiating through simply sitting by myself. During these times, I am remain quiet, even if the vicinity is bustling with surfeit energy.

Last week, X-Country was having a meet out in Milton. Our team was riding the bus out of the city. Of course, we encountered some traffic and an estimated our commute was an estimated 45 minutes. If there’s only one thing I’ve learned from riding a schoolbus everyday, it would be that kids at this age love to be social on the bus.

So maybe you’ve guessed by the title of this post, but maybe you have also guessed by the words of my first paragraph; I am an introvert, and I do not find bliss in social situations. Perhaps that isn’t the right way to put it, but I find that I enjoy listening to small-talk conversations on the bus rather than contribute. On the way to Milton, some kids were playing some games like Truth or Dare, MSK etc. and I found myself sitting in the last row of the bus, staring out the window. Just out the window…at the leaves that were beginning to tint red hues and observing the different angle the sun hits buildings in the fall. I was so mesmerized by the scene that stood, changed and blurred with the jolts, stops and movement of the bus until one kid turned around in his seat, looked at me and said, “Guys, you left an eighth grader out of your game.” Though I did appreciate his shoutout to my peers who were busily engaged in Truth or Dare, I didn’t want to participate in that game. I have always felt it would reveal too much about me, and I knew it would frequently turn out to my embarrassment.

I feel I need to be more social as I get older. I’m still working on this, overcoming the introvertive sides of me. I do not believe that I do not have the power to engage in small-talk conversations instead of staring out a window…I think I just need to see that I do.

Ways I’m Going To Attempt To Be More Social

• If not participating in a conversation, at least be visibly present
• Step out of your comfort zones to talk with people
• Start conversations, yet let others do a large portion of the talking
• During study blocks, schedule to meet with friends somewhere
• Go with the flow of the conversation
  
  
  
  

The Metaphor My Dad Told Me to Live By

In the fall season, I run X-Country. I really enjoy running, as this is one of the few moments of the day when I am able to honor the bugs that fly around in my head. I am given the opportunity to appreciate my ideas, aspirations, and tenets.

A few weeks ago, after a meet with another school, my dad was picking me up. On the car ride home he told me I had ran well. I believed him. The sun was shining that day. The clouds seemed white enough to resemble snow and the sun was merely beginning its journey to the horizon. Then our conversation began to turn into more meaningful talk. Knowing my volatile and erratic levels of stress at different times of day, my dad began to formulate a metaphor to help me understand how he hoped I would meander through life. As a runner, I can strongly relate to this metaphor and hopefully, whether you’re a runner or not, you will discover some way to make this metaphor meaningful as well.

***

Life is like a long distance run. A long, long run. Maybe 500 miles in the course of one lifetime. But you’re standing at that starting line knowing you must reach the finish line of that race. You are given nothing but your legs. Nothing but your legs and a pair of shoes. How do you conquer this challenge?

Running at my meet

Dad gave examples. Some people start off really fast and burn out [like I sometimes do in my races]. Others start out really slow, then gradually, once they warm up, begin to accelerate. Others maintain a steady pace throughout the whole 500 mile span [like when I run on my own]. Some don’t ever begin. However, my dad highlighted the importance of neglecting speed. He told me that as long as I reached the finish line, enjoyed the process and remembered what made me successful, I’ve won.

***

So in reality, I need to try to approach stressful assessments with alacrity. This metaphor makes me realize that if I study too hard, it would be like attempting to sprint to the finish line when I’m only 10 miles into the 500 mile race. Maybe I’ll sprint and get ahead of a few other people running the same race. But I may also encounter a cramp or two.

I’ve got the resources and now, I’ve just got to see it. My legs and my pair of running shoes are with me all the time. I’m 10 miles into the race. I know I will encounter cramps, injuries and bruises along the way, yet I know I must reach the end of the finish line. So I don’t need to sprint. But I also shouldn’t slack off. I should run at a steady pace so that I reach that finish line.