Friday, September 21, 2012
Every time I accomplish something small, it is amazing how proud of myself I am. Last time I lived in Germany, I was here for 6 months. However, I was never able to send a postcard because I was too afraid to go into the post office to buy stamps. I was afraid of being asked a question and being thrown off of my mental track and frozen in that embarrassing moment for all time. That being said, I did manage to send a package once- a package that had feelings of romance behind it, which always makes finding the courage to do something easier. Yes, I know how silly being frozen in time sounds, but even I have some ridiculous insecurities when it comes to speaking in another language. I never want to feel like I am inconveniencing someone, so the majority of the time I just don't ask for something if I feel a large language barrier.
But the more I travel, I realize that 10 seconds of extreme discomfort is well worth the effort. So, I sent out the first round of postcards that I have ever sent from abroad.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Goodbye Undergraduate Career
As I am still processing the thoughts I have/should have regarding my undergraduate career. I can honestly say that chapter is closed. I received a letter notifying me that all of my debts to Stanford University have been paid in full, and my final transcript.
Oh, gap year, give me some perspective.
The first three weeks
Have been full of Birthdays. Verena's was yesterday, and we went out to a morning brunch.
Always wearing black, yeah all of us...
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Exploring those emotions
This is what I was waiting for, but hoping wouldn't happen.
In my usual work, I am dealing with situations where children have dysfunctional or non-existent relationships with their parents. Abused, neglected, and foster youth usually have a complicated relationship to their biological parents. I can deal with that. Sometimes, it is difficult because I have empathy for those children. In many ways, I can relate and I want to relieve their pain. I wish there was a way to reassure them that despite that, they can find happiness and feel whole.
One of the hardest emotional challenges that I am encountering right now is interacting with a family with such a strong female figure. She is such a supportive and encouraging mother figure. Her life is for her children. And this makes me feel internally uncomfortable. Uncomfortable in a way that has nothing to do with her, but everything to do with myself.
Years ago, I would be upset every day about the relationship, lack thereof, or abusive nature of the relationship that I had with my mother. Every night I would cry myself to sleep. I never thought I could be happy. But here I am, happy and embracing life. I hardly ever spend the time to truly contemplate the relationship I have with my mother. It simply isn't an issue. However, watching my boss with her children is like attempting to rewiring my brain as to what a mother is. It physically makes me uncomfortable to attempt to associate certain behaviors with a mother. I am relearning a role and how to react, in a family, with the person who holds that role.
This isn't even an issue about parenting styles, or personality, but roles. My conception of what a mother is is being overturned, and during this process I am forced to reevaluate what I know a mother to be.
For the first time, I looked to see if my mother was on facebook. She publicly posted about her homeless, convictions, and trouble with drugs with an exuberant tone. She was never really my mother. My entire life would have been so different if I had a loving and supportive mother. But I am thankful for her. I never would have graduated from Stanford if she hadn't shown me what I was capable of. During my graduation weekend, I didn't even think of her once. In fact, my only college memories of her are when she called me on the first Parent's Weekend of my freshman year to tell me she hated me and how I was such a bad person, and when she sent me a doll that she had received from her father when I was going abroad to Germany in my Sophomore year. Otherwise, the memories are connected to activities she engaged in back home, disconnected from the life that I made 3,000 miles away from her, that only crept back in when I visited New Jersey.
I need to reconfigure this notion of a mother that I have, but its not going to be easy. Yet, I know it will be one of the most worthwhile experiences of my life.
In my usual work, I am dealing with situations where children have dysfunctional or non-existent relationships with their parents. Abused, neglected, and foster youth usually have a complicated relationship to their biological parents. I can deal with that. Sometimes, it is difficult because I have empathy for those children. In many ways, I can relate and I want to relieve their pain. I wish there was a way to reassure them that despite that, they can find happiness and feel whole.
One of the hardest emotional challenges that I am encountering right now is interacting with a family with such a strong female figure. She is such a supportive and encouraging mother figure. Her life is for her children. And this makes me feel internally uncomfortable. Uncomfortable in a way that has nothing to do with her, but everything to do with myself.
Years ago, I would be upset every day about the relationship, lack thereof, or abusive nature of the relationship that I had with my mother. Every night I would cry myself to sleep. I never thought I could be happy. But here I am, happy and embracing life. I hardly ever spend the time to truly contemplate the relationship I have with my mother. It simply isn't an issue. However, watching my boss with her children is like attempting to rewiring my brain as to what a mother is. It physically makes me uncomfortable to attempt to associate certain behaviors with a mother. I am relearning a role and how to react, in a family, with the person who holds that role.
This isn't even an issue about parenting styles, or personality, but roles. My conception of what a mother is is being overturned, and during this process I am forced to reevaluate what I know a mother to be.
For the first time, I looked to see if my mother was on facebook. She publicly posted about her homeless, convictions, and trouble with drugs with an exuberant tone. She was never really my mother. My entire life would have been so different if I had a loving and supportive mother. But I am thankful for her. I never would have graduated from Stanford if she hadn't shown me what I was capable of. During my graduation weekend, I didn't even think of her once. In fact, my only college memories of her are when she called me on the first Parent's Weekend of my freshman year to tell me she hated me and how I was such a bad person, and when she sent me a doll that she had received from her father when I was going abroad to Germany in my Sophomore year. Otherwise, the memories are connected to activities she engaged in back home, disconnected from the life that I made 3,000 miles away from her, that only crept back in when I visited New Jersey.
I need to reconfigure this notion of a mother that I have, but its not going to be easy. Yet, I know it will be one of the most worthwhile experiences of my life.
Coffee Dates and Gym Visits
The most notable events during my weeks are usually my day trips to meet friends for coffee and my daily visits to the gym.
Having had a long hiatus from the gym, I am still sore every single day. However, using the machines at this gym is so exciting because they count the number of reps you do, how long it takes you to do them, and it times your pauses between sets. Every day I get a little more comfortable to use another machine. I have yet to manage the courage to go into the dressing rooms, and see what the locker situation is like.
Today I went out to Friedrichshain to attempt to find a gift for Verena's birthday on Wednesday. Given that she is a fashion designer, it os very difficult to shop for her. Also, given that all of the stores were closed until 12, and that was when I had to meet Constantine and Daniel for coffee, I was completely unsuccessful. It seems that I will have to venture out early tomorrow to go gift shopping before I go to Verena's birthday brunch. Despite my failure in gift shopping, I was able to make a stop at the East Side Gallery. The East Side Gallery is a part of the Berlin Wall that remains standing that has art from various artists on it.
Berlin's street art is some of the best in the world. The attitude around it is also great. It is work that brings the city together rather than dividing classes of people. Most of the large works were done by artists who were paid to cover damage done to buildings in WWII.
The things art can do for moral and spirit.
Having had a long hiatus from the gym, I am still sore every single day. However, using the machines at this gym is so exciting because they count the number of reps you do, how long it takes you to do them, and it times your pauses between sets. Every day I get a little more comfortable to use another machine. I have yet to manage the courage to go into the dressing rooms, and see what the locker situation is like.
Today I went out to Friedrichshain to attempt to find a gift for Verena's birthday on Wednesday. Given that she is a fashion designer, it os very difficult to shop for her. Also, given that all of the stores were closed until 12, and that was when I had to meet Constantine and Daniel for coffee, I was completely unsuccessful. It seems that I will have to venture out early tomorrow to go gift shopping before I go to Verena's birthday brunch. Despite my failure in gift shopping, I was able to make a stop at the East Side Gallery. The East Side Gallery is a part of the Berlin Wall that remains standing that has art from various artists on it.
Berlin's street art is some of the best in the world. The attitude around it is also great. It is work that brings the city together rather than dividing classes of people. Most of the large works were done by artists who were paid to cover damage done to buildings in WWII.
The things art can do for moral and spirit.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Walk with me.
My weekend through photographs:
If I ever become a Euro resident, I will also have butterflies on my car.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Spielplatz or Playgrounds
One of my favorite things about Europe, especially as one moves eastward in the north, are the playgrounds. They have this mystical sense of dark abandon that I fall in love with. I think I would have loved to be a small child on a playground in the GDR with long stockings, a wool skirt, and some buckle shoes. Granted, I do not anticipate that my enjoyment would have bridged much farther than that, however I know that I would have loved the playgrounds. Each one has a distinct break from the playgrounds in the U.S. that I grew up with...
I also wish I could pull pictures of Marta's discovered playground from when we were in Slovokia.
I also wish I could pull pictures of Marta's discovered playground from when we were in Slovokia.
Prost, to all things Eastern European with their dark allure and working class appeal, fall, friends, and great times.
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