Things

I've never been much a fan of using the word "things." Perhaps it was my eighth grade theater teacher, Slotnick-Lastrico, who carved it upon the largest epitaph of his notorious "Word Graveyard." "Things" along with "like" and "good" were strictly prohibited in his classroom. With the myriad descriptive words available in our vocabularies, "things" just seemed a cop out. But how does one go about describing a change in one's character to others? Moreover, how can we point to specific people, objects and cultures that change us? Change is a holistic process, it does not happen one step at a time. Although I still have a deep distaste for the t-word, I find it fitting for circumstances like now, in which I know I am changing but I know not specifically the cause of this change.

An incredibly adventurous semester yes, but also one of constant introspection. As I experience new cultures (I have Turkish, Italian, Dutch, German, Canadian, Albanian, Greek, and Spanish friends here)  I feel parts of me rearranging, morphing, stretching like a glob of human Play Dough. Sections of the form are torn off, analyzed in relation to the larger structure and reattached as necessary. Stripped bare before the seas of change, I have immersed myself in the refreshing waters. Rejuvenation.

There is both solace and fear in the realization that humans are relative creatures. We adapt to fit our surroundings. We all act differently around different types of people- our behavior around our parents differs from our behavior with friends. The beauty of life lies in this change and growth. But the fear stems from the fleeting nature of identity. As we continue to change ourselves in relation to our environment, are we just forms of matter collecting experience? Or is there some constant at work that changes parts of us in relation to a core?

This semester has taught me that this comes down to a choice deep within us to preserve those fundamental beliefs that make us who we are. Through cultural empathy, open-mindedness and inquiry, we can better understand differences. But as I try on new hats, I realize I have only one head. Some fit and some don't, and this is because my head is only one size.  When I see or feel change, I notice it in relation to something.  As the surface feelings swirl about, the anchor of my being remains grounded, banishing its formally fleeting tendencies.  I have yet to discern exactly what this something is but it comprises my most intimate, personal identity.

Through this semester I have come to conclusions about a few fundamental convictions. As I accommodate the scads of emotions in my innkeeper of a brain, these convictions seek permanent residence. To name a few- the necessity of relationships, the importance of establishing purpose, the value of humor, and the power of expression. As the waters of emotion funnel their way through, these aforementioned few have secured themselves in my net of identity. As the convictions harden, the being carries weight. Man becomes grounded, true to himself and shamelessly represents his experiences and virtues in a world that increasingly encourages lightness and indifference.