I wrote this memoir as my final paper for a philosophy class during one of the most pivotal times in my life: my last semester as an adult undergrad at Cornell University. It encapsulates, sometimes in an esoteric fashion, the primary emotion that I was finally working through with success — regret about earlier life decisions.
Millions of people who have had near death experiences have reported seeing their lives flash before their eyes. I’ve often wondered if this is a universal occurrence. Can we all expect to see the entirety of our existence play out while taking our last breaths?
Because my phone often delays its delivery of voice mail notifications, I didn’t know until the next day that my Dad had called as I was returning to Columbus from my Los Angeles birthday trip. Parental phone calls ordinarily originate with Mom, but since she was in Germany that week, I didn’t think much of it.
Since aging out of crepe paper birthday parties and finally being able to get into bars legally, I’ve treated my birthday more or less like a federal holiday: it’s nice to have the day off, but don’t expect it.
If I hesitated, it was only for the sparest of seconds. I actually don’t even remember looking down. As a matter of fact, I FLUNG myself out (with Ted attached to my back) practically as soon as I reached the plane’s door.
In the midst of a few tumultuous times during my previous nine-year relationship, my then-boyfriend posed to me this simple question: Are you happier with me or without me? The last time he asked this, when we were finally breaking apart, I couldn’t answer with any certainty. I scoffed at the simplicity of it.
I stopped at the supermarket on the way home this evening to buy something for dinner. The experience was typical of these types of excursions. I was standing in line behind someone with a huge order and only one other line – way on the other side of the door – was open.
In our Nothingness of being of new to the world of consciousness, the first Love most of us experience is from of our lifeblood: Mom. We never doubt it because it’s unconditional. Really–who else but my Mom would continue to quietly and lovingly forgive my uncharacteristically circumstantial anxiety, bitchiness, and withdrawal? Not a single damn person.
I once had a shiny red 20Q ball in my possession. For those unfamiliar, it’s a handheld computer devoted to playing the game of 20 questions. The ball attempts to “guess” what the human player is thinking. Its consistent accuracy affected me so much that I became intent on outsmarting it.
As a self-proclaimed privacy advocate, exposing myself to potentially the entire world (a girl can dream, can she not?) is, shall we say… an irreconcilable contradiction…? So why am I starting a personal blog?
When I explain my Climate Ride to people, I typically begin by rattling off the stats and facts that I think make it impressive. “I’m riding 300+ miles over 5 days from Manhattan to D.C with about 200 other people!” Next, I talk about my beneficiary. “Cyclists ride for charitable environmental causes, and must raise […]
Do you remember a time that you wanted something so badly that you just knew it would be so? The first time I remember feeling that way was when I was turning 5 years old. I desperately wanted a blue big girl bike for my birthday.
Can you pinpoint a moment in time when you awoke to a new consciousness, something that would critically define who you are and set you on a path for the rest of your life? That moment for me happened one Earth Day, April 22.
You know that these are a few of the things I love. Did you know that they’ll all soon unite into an exciting adventure? This September, I’ll join 100+ Climate Ride bicyclists in an incredible journey of 300 miles from New York City to Washington D.C.!