3.10.13

Out of the depths of idleness.

I'm sitting rather tired on the 4th floor of my school. The night previous, I had done that thing again where I knock out from exhaustion like there is no tomorrow, forgetting to brush my teeth, shower and turn off the lights. Any who, sometimes I forget how amazing this institution is - how privilege intersects with my experiences, brings me to a different level and how a few years ago I dreamed of being in this space. One example is that my advisor, who is a leading expert in refugee and humanitarian assistance - worked in the refugee camp that my mom and family were in - in Thailand. By a matter of generations, the daughter of a refugee finds herself in this institution. It is a space of great privilege. I have been uncomfortable for the last few days for a multitude of reasons. One in particular is voice - and my daily struggles of expressing myself verbally, clearly, and openly without fear. This can be something as simple as raising my hand in class to ask a question or stating what I think right at that moment without fear of non acceptance. The school, faculty, colleagues make me realize that voice is all I have and I must speak. It's a strange concept and for the last few days I have been grappling with it full on. The other day I was invited by my work place to join them in a special dinner with their advisory board, faculty, etc because they had extra seats. Right before that I skipped class to attend this talk focused on women's health and rights about gender based violence, trafficking, and more. I was really inspired and afterwards there was this really nice reception. But onto the special dinner, I'm not sure how to describe my feelings about it, but imagine being in a room with multiple people whose work you greatly admire and strive to one day be a part of. Yup. I was quiet, embarrassed by my blue hair and very underdressed, but the experience was wonderful. I'm also uncomfortable because I am at the cusp of exactly where I want to be and I feel a shift coming.

Yes, I do understand that in a space of immense privilege, I need to take a step back and examine what it means in the context of others and where I came from. I must understand the dynamics that go in perpetuating oppression and silencing of voices. But hey, I have a year.

I never really feel good about staying at home because then I start thinking about it. I'll start thinking about it. Just a small glimpse of him sets me off. Then what? What do I do from there? What can I say about idleness? Here [in America] idleness is not okay. However, idleness in Vietnam is an amazing feeling. I reveled in idleness there and felt really good about it. Being still. Here idleness makes me feel guilty and sadness seeps in. Idleness is not okay but isn't it? When will it go away? This worries me.

Stop wasting time thinking about it.

I often study in a quiet naturally sunlit room on the 4th floor. My exhaustion was starting to make me feel sad and loneliness was starting to creep in, thoughts about him in particular. But just then,  I receive an email of research that I'm very interested in - the light started to shine exactly on me and nowhere else. I found this rather moving and am not sure what to make of it. Perhaps they are just telling me that everything will be okay.

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I just watched a commercial about ne-yo and his creative process in writing on youtube. It was surprisingly inspiring! Yes, this blog post was inspired by ne-yo.

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Vessels. I forget this all the time (which is probably why I blog so much.) but I forget the vessel of experiences that I hold and what this means as a person who intertwines with others. I sometimes am so earthly that I forget the spiritual aspect of things that keep me uplifted.







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