I'm writing this in a coffee shop nearby school. Folksy music is blending with the murmur of voices in the background. Beans roasting make the air feel caffeinated. Every once in awhile, I will see a familiar face walk in and say hello. Right now, the world feels right. Ordered. I feel present and loving it.
Life hasn't always been that way. Most of my awkward and crazy adolescent years have been spent hating some part of my life. I've hated the way people treat each other, the things people believe about themselves, and the hopelessness found at the end of all humanity's efforts to get things to work. I've struggled to unveil the pattern, order, meaning of it all. I've been stuck in an ever-looping existential crisis. Adolescence for me was waking up from a dream and realizing the dream was better than what I woke up to. Life was all wrong for me. It was heavy, disturbing, and hopeless.
This year has been characterized by kicking down the door and entering adulthood. My attitude toward life has changed. Part of maturing is realizing that I am meant to do something with the few years I walk the earth. It's liberating to see the things I've learned, skills I have, and passions zooming around inside of me position me to help others have hope too. That is real beauty.
I've been working on a bug collection for my ecology class, pictured above. Bugs are creatures I've often overlooked. This class has taught me to see the small things. When walking through the gardens at school, I'm impressed about the orange flowers drawing the butterflies. I think about how cicadas project their noises onto other bushes to mask their location. I also ponder the agility of the dragonflies that make them so hard to catch with my little net. There is beauty in all things if we care to look. To overlook the small things is to miss something much more monumental. Everything has a place, an order, and that order is good.
