I went to Olympia yesterday. I noticed that it has become somewhat of a tradition to write a blog post after every visit to The Evergreen State College. Hell, my tabbed page entitled "Me in 3--- Words" is about the first time I formally visited Evergreen. Indeed, the story I felt accurately sums up myself and my life at this point. It makes me so happy to be able to say that Evergreen is a large part of my life. Even before I knew I was going there, Evergreen has been the founding subject of this blog.
So it is only appropriate that I tell you all about my adventure. When I first arrived to the campus, I blankly stared at the directory for a few moments before deciding to just wing it and wander on. After all, just look for the clock tower. Sure enough, I found myself in front of the Daniel J. Evans Library Building. This campus just sucks you in. It is as if it wants me as much as I want it. I cannot begin to explain how incredibly important that kind of mutual love is to me at this point in my life.
I find that my artistic ability and flow are heightened when I travel outside my hometown. I am speaking poetry. Poetry is a language.
During my Academic Advising meeting, my adviser asked, "Too much information?" In all honesty, it was not as overwhelming as in the past because I have gotten used to Evergreen in my life. I could actually handle this. "A little," I said, to counter all the stress I've endured for Evergreen in the past. "I don't see smoke yet," he joked. That's because it's steam. From my acid brain. Lately an image of a hot, acidic, toxic, fried brain has come to me. It feels like my mind is dormant, especially when I read. I cannot focus or concentrate. It feels like I am disconnected from reality; information merely bounces off the entity that is my brain, instead of being sucked in and moved around, contorted, taken apart and processed.
While walking back to the car, I came across cute shops. The first was an art supplies store, which I was drawn (ha) to by the planners in the window. Then I gravitated to the journals. Of course. And I scoped the store for some gel pens (I need some more). But all of the pens were special, expensive pens that cost like four dollars each. :( Not what I was looking for. (When I came home I realized I should have looked for a journal to give my sister for her birthday.)
Then I walked on, and a few shops over was Radiance, a massage studio and larger abundant store. I remember Maryna (she goes to Evergreen) telling me about this place. Before I even entered the shop, I was drawn in by the peaceful smells that were radiating out of the door and onto the sidewalk outside.
I find that my artistic ability and flow are heightened when I travel outside my hometown. I am speaking poetry. Poetry is a language.
During my Academic Advising meeting, my adviser asked, "Too much information?" In all honesty, it was not as overwhelming as in the past because I have gotten used to Evergreen in my life. I could actually handle this. "A little," I said, to counter all the stress I've endured for Evergreen in the past. "I don't see smoke yet," he joked. That's because it's steam. From my acid brain. Lately an image of a hot, acidic, toxic, fried brain has come to me. It feels like my mind is dormant, especially when I read. I cannot focus or concentrate. It feels like I am disconnected from reality; information merely bounces off the entity that is my brain, instead of being sucked in and moved around, contorted, taken apart and processed.
While walking back to the car, I came across cute shops. The first was an art supplies store, which I was drawn (ha) to by the planners in the window. Then I gravitated to the journals. Of course. And I scoped the store for some gel pens (I need some more). But all of the pens were special, expensive pens that cost like four dollars each. :( Not what I was looking for. (When I came home I realized I should have looked for a journal to give my sister for her birthday.)
Then I walked on, and a few shops over was Radiance, a massage studio and larger abundant store. I remember Maryna (she goes to Evergreen) telling me about this place. Before I even entered the shop, I was drawn in by the peaceful smells that were radiating out of the door and onto the sidewalk outside.
I love leisurely wandering around shops like these. It sells a variety of things, such as sustainable cleansers and cosmetics, ethically made clothing, indie greeting cards, a rolling wall of bulk herbs, and BOOKS. Oh, the books. I had to jot some titles and authors down on my reading list in my journal. I circled the store at least twice, taking in all the condensed richness and beauty. In the book section I nearly freaked out (I definitely let out a gasp rather aggressively) when I saw on the bottom shelf Women's Bodies, Women's Wisdom by Christiane Northrup. I have that book at home. That book has pulled me out of a moral crisis about a year ago. It is my savior and something that I hold very dear to my heart. Then my eyes fell upon Spiritual Midwifery by Ida May Gaskin, which has been on my reading list for quite a while. Gaskin has the inspiration potential to be one of my heroes. In the card section I spotted a brand that triggered a flip-out of excitement. Curly Girl Design. I immediately recognized the style, for I had read about Curly Girl in an issue of Mary Jane's Farm.
Then I found comfort inside of the library section and sat down on the rocking chair there, took out my journal and ended up writing six pages about my experiences in Olympia. Then I realized that I had spent a lot of time in there (though I don't know exactly how much time was spent--my sense of time escapes me when I enter this kind of a place) and felt obligated to purchase something. I contemplated buying Spiritual Midwifery, but I recalled the half-read The Omnivore's Dilemma already in my bag and the several other books at home that have yet to be finished. I ended up getting a facial cleanser, which worked out because I needed some more anyway.
One significant thing about this trip was that I was calm and collected the whole time. Another is that I was alone. (These two may or may not be connected.) I was fairly confident. It was my first time going to Olympia by myself. I have been to Seattle without my parents, but that's it. I drove on the freeway with ease. I love being an adult. I believe I will actually succeed here. No nervous breakdowns this time. No lingering thoughts of "does this all matter?" After all, I have been turning this over in my mind more at home lately, and am adjusting to the idea that I will be moving to a different city and attending a different school with thousands of strangers. I remind myself:
1. Don't expect others to judge you. Don't waste your time trying to prove yourself to others. Don't try to prove that you're weird enough to go here. Don't try to wow people with the fact that you're a girly-girl who is studying agriculture (gasp!). In high school, I made it a point to let people know that I was both a cheerleader and a band geek. This always led me to an empty feeling. I thought I was special for not being boxed into one stereotype, but this is no use: especially at Evergreen, such boxes don't exist. Don't expect others to notice how special that is.
2. Do what YOU want. I am self-conscious about not being weird or unique enough to go here. And about a lot of other things. Thousands of people came before me and thousands will come after. No one is going to notice me. I am here for a reason.
3. None of these people know you. None of them know that you used to be shy or ugly or awkward. I have a blank slate before me. Now is my chance to reinvent my own identity out of what I choose to be. I have the opportunity to take control of my fate.