To the Lone Tulip, Standing in the Field:
The first day of spring only passed earlier this week, despite my thoughts that spring had already sprung with the beautiful weather the District has seen over the past few weeks. This is one of the first springs I’ve been able to enjoy over the past few years. For once, I don’t have to spend a day cooped up in the library writing a paper, reading a book or editing a design project. I can spend my life outside (after working hours) and I have. I’ve spent lunches and nights sitting in a park, reading a book. I’ve enjoyed the elephant parade. I’ve wandered the cherry blossoms, by day and night, and I’ve enjoyed almost every minute of it. However, my allergies have not appreciated my time spent outside any more than they usually do.
This winter was long but not so harsh; it was a real learning experience for me. I can’t say that I’m sad to see winter go. This was my first winter in the real world, so to speak, and it was hard. I knew I’d have problems juggling my work and social lives with eight hours out of my day dedicated to sitting in my office. The one thing I really didn’t expect was the dark. There were so many days when I’d leave for work before the sun came up and leave work after dark. It’s really demoralizing to not see the sun, day after day after day, and that really took a toll on me.
But winter is over, hopefully not to come back for months and I have spring to look forward to. That’s really the reason I’m writing this rambling post. I came up with the idea of 5200 words in the fall, but I was so busy with work and band that I simply didn’t have time to write. And why, I thought, would I start writing a blog in the fall? It really didn’t make sense to me. I decided I would start at the new year and make it a resolution, like the similar ones I have every year. But the fact that I’m a chronic nail biter, despite my goals every year, should have shown me how successful that idea would be. The winter led to depression and there were days I couldn’t drag myself out of bed, let alone go out and take a picture to write.
But with the onset of spring, my adventurous self has resurfaced and I’m out and about doing things. This week brought me to the cherry blossoms, seeing a speaker at my alma mater and trivia with some old and new friends. The blossoms were amazing, as usual, the speaker was the right mix of serious and hilarious to drive his message of equality and “things will get better” home, and trivia was an adventure, as always.
And a discussion of my week won’t be complete without this picture. Taken while dinner-ing with a friend on the quad at my alma mater (because it was too nice to eat inside), it reminded me of something a coworker told me earlier in the day. He told me that if I wasn’t different, I would be boring. That really struck me because I don’t see myself as quirky and different, but I also don’t think I’m a boring person. Sure, I do things that are wacky and different, and I don’t know what a box is, let alone how to think inside one, but I consider that normal. I was raised to be myself and I had a long period of trying to fit in called high school. Bullies tried to get the best of me, and it took moving 400 miles away from a toxic environment to re-learn how to be myself.
So, to that tulip: It might suck, being different where you are. But remember – someone thinks you’re amazing the way you are.
