This is me.

A lot has happened since I last posted something on here. Sometimes I still think about my months spent in London and have a hard time believing I was actually there. I’ll watch movies with the Clock Tower and Parliament in the background and think to myself or yell out to whoever is listening, “Oh my gravy, I’ve been there in real life!”

Since my return from London, I moved into an apartment, made it through a packed semester of REAL classes, survived the God-forsaken class of Calculus II, traveled to Xela, Guatemala with other Ball State students on a medical brigade, learned that wellness is more than a number on the scale, experienced heartbreak, watched my brother graduate from Ball State, realized exactly what I want to do when I grow up, and figured out a few things about myself along the way.

That seems like a lot of stuff for just a few short months. Some of it’s been hard, sad, and confusing - but it’s also been good, happy, and thought-provoking. I went through a time where I didn’t really like the person I was becoming. I would like to say that I do not regret anything about that time, but that’s not entirely true. Someone once told me, referring to a certain situation that “it is what it is.” And as much as I hate that line, it’s true. Almost too true. So maybe I do wish I could take a few things back, but I can’t. Instead I just have to learn from those mistakes. And I think I have.

Going to Guatemala for a week changed my life in so many ways. It’s an experience that would humble anyone. The Guatemalans are so thankful for our medical supplies and help – and their gratitude showed every time they smiled. I am definitely not an expert in Spanish, so I communicated by simply smiling back. It’s the universal language – smiling doesn’t know language barriers.

The experience also changed me on the inside. It made me realize I have way too much to give and live for than to just settle for what I was allowing myself to become. This is what I want to do – I want to become a doctor so that I can travel abroad and help people so that they can become better for their families, their communities, and our world.

I was so happy the day my brother graduated. He isn’t quite as responsible as some people would like to think he is, considering I was carrying his graduation attire the day of graduation. And that I helped him get dressed about 5 minutes before the procession began. But nevertheless, I was proud of him. Proud of what he’s been through in the past and the way he’s overcome the challenges.

When I think about our lives, there was our life before the accident and life after the accident. Two very different and distinct areas. I realize I said “our lives” instead of “Jeff’s life” because it really did affect our whole family. If the accident had never happened, all of our lives would have been so different. One thing is for sure – I would have been in Colorado watching his graduation take place, instead of watching it in Worthen Arena. I probably would not have decided to attend Ball State University, but instead followed my brother to the Air Force Academy. I’m not normally a follower, but I do tend to follow Jeff. Mostly because we push and encourage each other to be better – because we both know what the other one is capable of. Even if we don’t know it ourselves sometimes.

Before we found out Jeff had been accepted to medical school, I was talking to him online one night about what he might do if he didn’t get accepted this year. He said something about how he would feel like he’s failed if he didn’t get in. I told him that was definitely not true. If he hadn’t been accepted, then he would have to make different plans. Take a different path. That path wouldn’t be better or worse, it would just be different.

So after the accident, he had to take a different path. Not better or worse, just different. And it’s not like this different path is any less extraordinary than his original path – hello, medical school, future radiologist – yeah, that’s pretty extraordinary. And Jeff will find a way to jump out of airplanes whether or not he’s still in a wheelchair. And for some reason, I have a feeling that I’ll follow him there as well. :)

One of Tessa’s guy friends recently told her that he could never date me because I’m “too much of a liberal hippie.” He and I would have never dated anyway – and I even took what he said as a compliment. I do have several characteristics that represent the term “hippie” – I recycle and actually get a little twinge in my heart if I see you throw something away that could be recycled. I even have recycling cans in my apartment. I keep moving closer and closer to becoming a full-blown vegetarian – I have more meat-free days than ones containing chicken, turkey, or fish (the only meats I even consider eating). It actually hurts my heart to use Styrofoam and I wish McDonald’s and every other company would stop using it just because it’s cheaper to purchase. I would choose to wear a tie-dye dress or a shirt that says “More Love, Less Waste” over anything Prada, Coach, or Versace every single time. You will NEVER find me wearing real fur – just think how silly a mink would look if he was wearing your skin. I have two tattoos (one is a heart with a peace sign), and I plan to get more. When I grow up, I want to have a vegetable garden, compost, eat organic foods, drive a smart car, hybrid, or motorcycle, and have solar panels on the roof of my house.

So yeah, that’s me. I don’t care if you think I’m a hippie freak or a treehugger. Because this is who I am. I’m not perfect - there are times when I throw a plastic bottle in a trash can or eat a turkey sandwich. But that’s okay. Because at the end of the day, I still love who I am.

As far as what I’ve learned about relationships, I’ll say this: There’s a difference between changing yourself for someone and making sacrifices for them - a difference between waiting around for that person and creating time to spend with them. A relationship or friendship will never work unless the other person is willing to make sacrifices and create time for you too. And if that person really cares about you, then they will. Amazingly enough, it really is THAT simple.

But having said that, I’m grateful. Because the change it caused in me needed to happen. Thank you for that.

So there it is. My spring semester. I’ve learned a lot, but I’m definitely not done yet. And that’s probably a good thing, considering I still have two years left to go. Yikes. I’ll probably look back on this entry when I’m graduating college and think, “Wow, I really was a hippie freak.” Oh well, I still love me.

Peace&treehugs,
Rach

Don't waste it.

So it’s probably about time I updated this, right? Sorry for the delay, but I was always going to post again… it was just a matter of when. And now that question has been answered.

January 3^rd. Today is a big day. Not just because we’re having the majority of my mom’s family at our house for a belated Christmas celebration, but for another reason too. It has been exactly one month since I left London and everything that I had grown to know and love during the past three months of my life.

In the days leading up to December 3^rd (D-Day – as in ‘Departure Day’), I thought it would be easy to leave. I thought I would be ready. My grandma Jane had come to visit a few weeks before. And then my parents came during the week of Thanksgiving. They left five days before I was supposed to leave, so I thought that would make me more ready to go. My mom kept saying that I should just fly home with them – she was joking of course, but still. They were obviously ready for me to come home, along with many of my friends. But the question was if I was ready to leave.

I would say that during the final weekend before D-Day, I was ready to go. I was in the process of mentally ‘checking out’, especially since all my London assignments had been completed and turned in. I really started to miss my friends and family back home and was just ready to be around people I loved and who loved me. But on Tuesday, December 2^nd, my feelings definitely changed.

I woke up fairly early because I didn’t want to waste my last day by sleeping all day. I ran some errands in Islington (a northern district of London) - I bought boots at a store there earlier in the week and somehow I was given two completely different boots. Different size, different style, everything. But of course I didn’t notice this until I opened the box back at my flat. But whatever, I got the whole boot situation straightened out and then I was off to enjoy the rest of the day.

I did a lot of random shopping at Selfridges and a bookstore – last minute gifts I had thought of for people. I stopped at a Starbucks on Oxford Street. Made sure I rode a double-decker bus at least one more time. Ate lunch at a Chinese restaurant because they are my absolute favorite. Went to the National Portrait Gallery once it started raining in the afternoon. Made my way down my street and back to my flat to finish packing. Out to dinner at a ‘hole in the wall’ Indian restaurant near Paddington Station with my three favorite friends from the trip. Back to Oxford Street at night to photograph the Christmas lights lining the street and the amazing window displays at Selfridges. And finally, back to the flat one last time via a double-decker bus.

The greatest thing about my last day was that it was just like any other day I spent in London. I never wasted any of my days by sitting in the flat or sleeping the day away. I tried to stay as busy as I could because I never wanted to waste a minute of this incredible opportunity. I wanted to see and experience everything I could. Of course there were things I didn’t see and do that I really wanted to – especially a day trip to Hampstead and a visit to the Cabinet War Rooms. But when I think about those few things I missed this trip, I can easily count them on one hand. When I think about everything I DID see and do, in both London and Europe, it’s impossible to count - a tour of Parliament, meeting American celebrities on British soil, eating at a favorite Chinese restaurant on Thanksgiving, literally falling on a man while riding the Tube, breaking at least three umbrellas during the downpours, buying six-packs of white English muffins for 68 pence and eating one EVERYDAY for breakfast, planning a tour of London for my parents using public transportation buses, watching a seeing-eye dog lead its master on the Tube, running in Regents Park and Hyde Park, listening to all the opinions, views, and perceptions at Speaker’s Corner, finding art that I actually enjoy learning about, and becoming more aware of the environment and the world – just to name a few.

On the flight home from London, I wrote in my own personal journal everything that I was feeling at the exact moment – excitement, apprehension, sadness, relief, anticipation, self-assurance, and appreciation. It makes sense that I titled that entry “Mixed Feelings”. But at that moment, I really had no idea how I would cope with leaving London and returning to America. It obviously helped that I would be around my friends and family, but nevertheless, I was anticipating some serious culture shock once I arrived in Indiana.

After being home for a month, I feel like some of that initial culture shock is wearing off. I distinctly remember looking out the window as our plane was landing in Indianapolis and seeing a K-Mart. I’m not exactly a fan of K-Mart because the one is Muncie is quite ‘hick’, so really I was hoping the plane would just turn around and take me back to London. Getting used to the people and the Muncie culture (if that’s what you want to call it) again has been the hardest thing for me.

I was talking to my friend, Adrienne, who studied abroad in Ecuador about that feeling you get when you come home. It’s really hard to describe and the only way to truly understand it is if you have left America for a while. You just don’t feel like you ‘fit’ as well as you did before you left. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just different. Maybe I’m not as comfortable here as I used to be. Maybe I’m just more ambitious to get out and do things because I know there is still so much to see and experience. I can’t exactly put my finger on it, but all I know is that it’s good for me. And I never want to lose that feeling.

With 2009 arriving a few days ago, I began to think about what this new year will hold for me. It definitely will not bring another three months in London, but I have a feeling I will think about this past semester very often and everything it has done and changed for me. In March, I am going on a trip to Guatemala for spring break with a group from Ball State. We’re going to various clinics to provide medical care for children. Currently, I am beginning to train for a mini marathon, which is scheduled for this summer (thanks to my brother and Adrienne for that one!). And within the next week I will be moving into my apartment that my best friend and I will be sharing in the fall. Oh, and somewhere in there I’ll be going to school and working and doing all that jazz.

It’s hard to know how to end this. This won’t be my last post. I’ll probably have several sporadic ones here and there when something exciting happens or when I just feel like writing. But I think the best way to end this entry and period in my life to share what I believe to be the most important lesson I learned from my time in London: Strive to be an individual. The world only has one of you. Don’t waste it.