-- CHRISSY --
Inbox (1). I had an email from Chrissy, subject line: Boston :) I had to laugh. Attached was a power point advertising all the sights and sounds of Boston, a proposition for Sarah and I to go live and work with her there post graduation. Chrissy is a go-girl.
"Hey Mamie. I saw this thing online and you can go hiking with llamas! We should totally go over the break in August.'
"Wouldn't it be awesome if we could go work at an orphanage in Ecuador like Louise did next time we have a break?"
"Ok look in May we have to go on a big trip all together. I'm thinking a Mediterranean cruise ... or backpacking in South America ... what do you think?"
"I haven't been to an art museum here. Is there an art museum here?"
"Oh my gosh tomorrow we should go to the zoo first and then we can have lunch and go to the children's museum in the afternoon and then we can go on the riverwalk."
Everyday is a day to do something new for her at a rate that I struggle to keep up with. In this respect my first impression of her wasn't totally off. I was intimidated by her seemingly immediate social ties within the class, her sorority tshirts and her comfortable laughter in the middle of class. And she was funny. I like to be funny too and, let's face it, most of the time there's little room for two funny people in one class.
But in so many ways I was wrong. First of all, Chrissy is funny, I am sarcastic. She's much less biting. Unafraid to laugh at herself, there is always a new "You will never believe what I did today" story to be told between class or after a meeting with a professor.
It wasn't until I started exercising that I saw the side of Chrissy that really made me unafraid of her friendship. On the riverwalk Chrissy and I huffed and puffed alongside each other, vowing to make it for the whole length running by the end of the summer. Those times were good for my health and for my body. But the walking times were good for my heart and our friendship. Chrissy's curiosity about life extended far beyond her desire to see and do everything possible.
One afternoon, as we evil-eyed the gray skies looming over the 3 or so mile walk back to Chrissy's apartment, Chrissy asked, "Do you think things happen for a reason? I mean do you think we all have a purpose?" Hearing her voice without laughter surprised me.
"Yeah. Yeah I do." One of our first real conversations ensued. What did that mean for us? So there was a reason we were in this program, huh. and somehow leading to Do you think they should have pulled the plug on that Schiavo lady?
She's just like me, I thought. She thinks about life. Chrissy suddenly for me represented every other classmate I'd pitched into a stereotype. They all think about life. They are all just like me. I got less scared of them, of being their friend, of saying what I thought or how I felt.
Starting with invitational challenges to do outrageous things and ending with heartfelt questioning and dialogue, Chrissy made me less scared about people and life. People are just like me and essentially their lives confuse them just like mine does. It's a strange thing, people. So extremely different but so innately the same.
Mexican proverb for the day:
"Hey Mamie. I saw this thing online and you can go hiking with llamas! We should totally go over the break in August.'
"Wouldn't it be awesome if we could go work at an orphanage in Ecuador like Louise did next time we have a break?"
"Ok look in May we have to go on a big trip all together. I'm thinking a Mediterranean cruise ... or backpacking in South America ... what do you think?"
"I haven't been to an art museum here. Is there an art museum here?"
"Oh my gosh tomorrow we should go to the zoo first and then we can have lunch and go to the children's museum in the afternoon and then we can go on the riverwalk."
Everyday is a day to do something new for her at a rate that I struggle to keep up with. In this respect my first impression of her wasn't totally off. I was intimidated by her seemingly immediate social ties within the class, her sorority tshirts and her comfortable laughter in the middle of class. And she was funny. I like to be funny too and, let's face it, most of the time there's little room for two funny people in one class.
But in so many ways I was wrong. First of all, Chrissy is funny, I am sarcastic. She's much less biting. Unafraid to laugh at herself, there is always a new "You will never believe what I did today" story to be told between class or after a meeting with a professor.
It wasn't until I started exercising that I saw the side of Chrissy that really made me unafraid of her friendship. On the riverwalk Chrissy and I huffed and puffed alongside each other, vowing to make it for the whole length running by the end of the summer. Those times were good for my health and for my body. But the walking times were good for my heart and our friendship. Chrissy's curiosity about life extended far beyond her desire to see and do everything possible.
One afternoon, as we evil-eyed the gray skies looming over the 3 or so mile walk back to Chrissy's apartment, Chrissy asked, "Do you think things happen for a reason? I mean do you think we all have a purpose?" Hearing her voice without laughter surprised me.
"Yeah. Yeah I do." One of our first real conversations ensued. What did that mean for us? So there was a reason we were in this program, huh. and somehow leading to Do you think they should have pulled the plug on that Schiavo lady?
She's just like me, I thought. She thinks about life. Chrissy suddenly for me represented every other classmate I'd pitched into a stereotype. They all think about life. They are all just like me. I got less scared of them, of being their friend, of saying what I thought or how I felt.
Starting with invitational challenges to do outrageous things and ending with heartfelt questioning and dialogue, Chrissy made me less scared about people and life. People are just like me and essentially their lives confuse them just like mine does. It's a strange thing, people. So extremely different but so innately the same.
Mexican proverb for the day:
Todos los hombres estamos hechos del mismo barro, pero no del mismo
molde.
(All men are made of the same clay, but not of the same mold.)
1 comment:
i thought you'd find this funny:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VffKMpJVfnU
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