Alpine Calamity

Preface:
I found this in an email. I wrote this for an English course in high school. I don't remember the prompt. It is the story of my bike accident in Germany.

___________________________________________

Alpine Calamity

I don’t remember much. It all seems like a distant dream, one that should have awakened me with a jolt. But this was different. It lacked certain dream qualities; the fall was too quick, my stomach didn’t have that light-as-air feeling and I did not instantly wake up.  I vaguely remember being lifted. I managed to mutter a mere “ow” only to let my barer know that I was conscious, though I didn’t actually feel any pain. I didn’t feel anything. Then, my head was lying on my mother’s lap and she was stroking my hair until the ambulance came and lifted me onto the stretcher. I recall my mother asking for scissors because she finally had the chance to cut off the hair-ties I always had around my wrist. I remember ironically singing one line from Stay Awake by All Time Low—stay awake get a grip and get out your safe—over and over again in my head. I wasn’t scared.  As a matter of fact, I felt very safe and content. I was more worried about the two hair-ties that my mom just destroyed than about what was actually wrong with me, I wasn't even sure what had happened.
 
The hospital is just one blur. I took some X-rays, and my friend’s mom translated all the German for my parents, informing them that I should be woken every two hours to make sure my concussion didn’t worsen. Before we left the hospital the doctors patched up the huge scrapes that covered my arm and lower back. I was also given a brace to readjust my clavicle which had been snapped and small bottle of morphine to ease the pain which soon became excruciating.

I don’t remember much about the accident. I remember racing my friend down the mountain. Speeding so fast down a steep slope that my tire began to shake, in an attempt to slow down, I pressed the brakes. Then, all I remember is concrete and nothing. I don’t recall waking up, and unless my mother hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t even remember the two men that picked me up and carried me to the side of the road and stayed with me until my parents arrived. They were just behind us on their bikes, unaware that their daughter lay in an unconscious heap on the road.

It took me a year to gain enough courage to ride a bike; I wore a helmet that time. It was terrifying at first- flashes of the accident kept racing through my mind. However, that reaction didn’t last long. My father encouraged me to pedal my way through simple and flat streets of Washington D.C. and helped me ride up and down a simple hill. The fact is that no matter how much I fall, I know I always have to get back up.

No Food or Water in the Desert: the Story of My Ramadan

It's been 2.5 weeks since Ramadan started. I am hungry and thirsty, but it has become easier to manage. Most people are shocked when they hear that me and two of my friends--both non-Muslims--have decided to participate in this month-long fast. The Muslim students I have encountered on campus, however, were delighted that I was doing Ramadan. It is their holiest month, after all.
            In fact, Ramadan encapsulates two of the five pillars of Islam: fasting and charity. It is a celebration of receiving the Qu'ran from God, but it is also about being reminded of the suffering that continues around the world. During the month, Muslims do not eat, drink, smoke or participate in errant activities while the sun is up. It is a month of reflection on your material life and to connect with those who have less. It is not about punishment and the purpose is not suffering, it is to reconnect with God and to take care of your fellow creations.
            Despite this, Ramadan is still incredibly challenging. If I want to eat breakfast, I have to wake up before the first morning prayer which generally happens around 4am. After that I am restricted from food and water until after the evening prayer around 19:40 when I can finally feast.
            I decided to put myself through this challenging Islamic tradition for myriad of reasons, but it’s not everyday one finds themselves in the Middles East surrounded by a different faith. This may be the only opportunity I have to participate in and to learn from an authentic experience. As of now, I have been invited to three iftar (breaking of the fast feasts) all around Palestine. This experience is one that has already begun to change my view of Islam. Witnessing the community and the camaraderie behind Ramadan is inspiring. In the villages, people support each other through the difficulty of the day. 

            On top of moral support, Muslims raise money to support local charities. For example, last year British Muslims donated over £100,000,000 in the UK alone. I hope by being apart of this tradition I can speak about my experiences with my friends and family back home and with future friends I meet around the world to help them paint a more accurate picture of Islam.
            Ramadan, for me, is a way to reconnect and strengthen the charitable and warm image I have of Muslims. In today’s world, it is easy to get caught up in the media and lost in the negative image of this particular faith. By participating in Ramadan, I hope that my Muslim friends and colleagues will know that my friends and I are not being swayed by extremism because we understand what Islam is really about—peace. Through my participation, I hope to gain a unique perspective of the Muslim faith. Ramadan is not only about fasting, but about being a good person. The hunger pangs and the dehydration are meant to act as a reminder that there are people who do not have access to food or water. There are people suffering much more than me and even some of those people will be participating in Ramadan being reminded that there are some who have even less than them.
            Ramadan is meant to help realign myself and to remind me of my place in the world. I hope that with every thought of the magnificent feast waiting for me after sunset, I will also think of those suffering more than me. I will think about the families stuck on rafts in the Mediterranean fleeing from their worn-torn home—about those who do not have a home or a warm feast waiting for them tonight—about children having to spend another day separated from their parents and about their families who miss them dearly. 
            Ramadan is also a celebration, the iftars act as an opportunity to gather as friends, families and communities to be together and celebrate what is most important—our relationships. If I’ve learned anything in the last 2.5 weeks, it is that I have a strong support system, a family, in the friends I’ve made during my time here. I wish them all a happy Ramadan and I thank them for accepting me and teaching me about their faith. 

Ramadan Kareem (Happy Ramadan).

Meet Val

Valoire Moonvein was born in the in-between of this world and the other as her mother was dead before Valoire was even released from her womb. While her physical body matured in the far off desert land of Zakharra, she spent her childhood distantly floating between the scorching desert sun and the soft light of the other-world. Her connection to the other-world was much stronger than with other elves because of her precarious birth. 

When she was about 90 years old (still young for an elf), a fierce curiosity of magic entrapped her. She spent hours of her day alone in the desert a few miles from her wooded oasis to meditate in hopes of harnessing the energy to produce magic. She spent her days peaceful atop the highest peak of the sand dunes attempting to connect with the energy of the sun. 

Being a novice and not knowing much about harnessing energy, when she finally latched on she took it a step too far. 

Her body was engulfed in the flames of the other-world. Every inch of her was screaming in pain. She didn’t know how to release from the spell. Everything was burning. The world was too bright. She was on fire, disappearing in an agonizing magical flame.  She was finally able to let go of the energy, but her body was powerless. Left weak and dying in the middle of the desert she laid down to pass body and soul into the otherworld.

She was found by a wondering elf. Her dehydrated and almost translucent body had already begun to transfer itself into the other-world. She was quickly transported to the local cleric who was able to bring her back to her physical entirety. 

When she awoke from her daze she was blind. The cleric wasn’t able to cure it. 

Elves are seen as ephemeral and perfect. They have boundless beauty and agile bodies and minds. To be a disabled elf is not something the population can understand. Valoire was left under the care of the reluctant cleric-having been abandoned by her family and friends. After years of living at the clergy, Val became intimately acquainted with the smell of halls and the feel of the each room. She was even able to distinguish the sounds of each clergyman’s footfalls. Even within the walls of the Clergy, she was ostracized and left alone. 

Her blindness in her physical body and the abandonment of her people connected her even more to the other-world. She was still blind on both planes, but in the other-world instead of seeing darkness she saw a soft light which made her hopeful that one day she may regain her sight. 

One quiet evening, during meditation, Val was confronted with a beautiful voice whispering to her as if she were sitting next to Val. This was the voice of Sune the light goddess of love and beauty.

 Sune had been watching Val. The goddess pitied the beautiful elf for she could not basque in the beauty of the world around her. 

The elf herself was also striking, her hair, eyes, and skin were effected by the failed spell, making her once golden hair into a deep ruby red, much like Sune’s hair. Val’s skin was burnt by the light which gave it a darkened silver tone, but her eyes were the most striking of all—once they were clear blue but now her irises were a mystifying ice blue and what was once the whiteness of her eye is now a crisp obsidian. 

For years the goddess would occasionally drop in to converse with the meditating elf confused about what to do with this strange being. Finally, Sune confronted Val in the other-world and appeared in Val’s vision. Val was shocked to be seeing again and whatsmore what she was seeing was one of the most gloriousy beautiful beings she’s ever encountered. Sune looks exactly like what you’d expect from a Light goddess of love and beauty. 

Valoire was brought to tears and felt blessed that she could gaze upon something so beautiful even for the briefest of moments. Sune was moved by Val’s emotions so much so that she regifted Valoire with sight declaring it unfair for such a ephemeral creature to not be able to glorify in her own beauty and the beauty around her. 

With her sight back, Val’s appearance, while still beautiful was so bizarre that she didn’t feel welcomed in her own community. She remained at the clergy spending her days reading the endless books on magic and the godess in the clergy library. With the help of Sune, she became comfortable enough with the basic understandings of magic and decided that she would travel to distant lands to discover the beauty of the world that Sune had so often described to her. At the age of 507, Valoire set off alone to discover the land of Faerun.  

Since Val had spent most of her days either alone or in the company of Sune, she wasn’t very accustomed to social interactions. The abandonment of her family and friends has left her weary to trust those she meets. She has a bit of an awkward but kind demeanor which contradicts her intimidating features leaving those she meets befuddled and awed. People find her to be curious and often approach her with fascination, she sometimes obliges their conversations but maintains distance and a air of mystery until stranger’s become acquaintances who become friends… a hard thing to achieve with Valoire Moonvein. But more often than not, Val pretends she doesn’t understand the language, brushes the person off, and walks away. 

Val spends her days doing what she pleases. Sune inspires Val everyday to basque in all the pleasures of life. Val takes little consideration of what others think of her and does as she wishes, but her kind heart makes her compassionate and careful to those who are weak or unable to protect themselves. Because of this connection to love and beauty, Val has a strong code of honor that most don’t understand… She is open and good seeing opportunity in everything. She is especially fascinated by beauty often going out of her way to follow a butterfly or sit a little longer at a beautiful view. Her fascination with beauty, however, often leads her to judge those who are unkempt or or don't seem to put any effort into their appearance. It is of great displeasure and discomfort for her to look upon disheveled people or things which often leads her to be incredibly rude towards those who do not take care about their looks.

Some may see this as vein, but to Valoire, it as an insult to Sune who loves the beauty within and without. Why deny your outer beauty for the sake of your inner beauty when you can have both? 

What is a leader? A good communicator.

-to define is to limit-

It's officially been a year since I jumped across the pond to the land of Israel. I’ve come to realize that this is the longest I’ve been away from home. This transition to grad school in Israel has also been the transition of being a young American depending on her parents in many aspects of her life, to being a young American depending on herself in all matters. I’ve become an adult…? 

~I say the words American here because we are discussing identity in a lot of my classes and while I normally don't use my nationality as a main aspect of my identity, I have begun to understand how my American background and culture has defined me as a traveler and a person. More on identity later though...~

I’ve taken control of my life, which requires a lot more responsibility than I could even imagine. It’s not just the buying and cooking of food (I gotta eat..) or taking out the trash and paying bills (these are real bummers though). It is establishing and truly solidifying what I find sacred at this point in my life. By understanding what I feel to be most important I can begin to understand who I am as a human on this planet in this time. 

When you’re growing up, even if you are an opinionated and loud child (sorry, mom and dad), you still have to comply to your parents morals and values. You can be a leader within your friend or age group, but no grownup really listens to a kid. Having the appearance of an adult requires that I set good examples for those around me (young and old alike). People judge adults more than children, and I have to decide how much I care about what others think of me. Not only that, but I have to decide what kind of role model I want to be and what kind of leader I am. 

I define a leader as someone who inspires, who is responsible, creative, and who takes initiative. Someone who is trustworthy and accountable, who can see the big picture while also considering the little stuff (the treatment and desires of others). Someone who listens and can effectively communicate. The most important aspect of a leader, however, is her ability to adapt. Last week, my class had the opportunity to speak to the grandson of Ghandi, Arun Ghandi. Among many insightful advice given, he said one thing that struck me: Identify your weaknesses and change those weaknesses into strengths. He said if we were what we are then we wouldn’t progress at all. Meaning that everyone is capable of change. 

To be a good leader, one must be able to understand when and how to adapt to certain situations and in many cases that adaptation is when the leader realizes where her deficiencies are as the leader. Identifying your weaknesses can be tough. I’ve always considered myself an effective communicator. I am loud and bubbly, I am considerate and I can an-nun-ci-ate. Unfortunately, this isn’t the entire formula for an effective communicator. 

A good communicator is a good listener and that is something I fall short on. I think many people would label themselves as good communicators, but in reality they just mean they are quick to come up with rebuttals. Rather than progressing the conversation forward, they are good at keeping it at a stalemate- in an incessant back and forth, no listening, no understanding- just closed arguments. 

We recently finished a mediation workshop. It was a week of simulations, it was very draining, but extremely rewarding. Being a mediator is not a judge, it's not a negotiator. It's not even about finding a solution for people. The role of a mediator is to act as a third-party "mother". Mediators listen and their communication is just a reflection of the listening. It’s like being a glorified translator-- translating people's emotions into interests so that all parties involved can hopefully understand the other's side better and come to some sort of agreement on their own. 

Mediating involves reflective listening which is exactly what as it sounds—you listen and reflect back almost verbatim what the speaker said. It’s a little awkward at first, but it’s very validating for the listener to know with certainty that they are being heard which in turn makes them more engaged in the conversation. 

A Buddhism class I took discussed the idea of deep listening. This involves almost no verbal or non-verbal communication on the side of the listener. The listener is supposed to engage fully with the words she is hearing while also focusing on what she is feeling and sensing within herself as the listener. This focus could be anything from concentrating on facial movements to the sensations running through your body. 

Communication is both what you comes out of you (speech, body language, non-verbal queues, etc.) as well as what you bring in through reflective and deep listening which helps you to understand. Communication is a two-way street and in order to be a good leader you need to know how to navigate in both directions. This navigation involves quick thinking--adaptability. It's one thing to listen and understand what is being said to you, but as a leader one must also consider what to do with the information that was just given. 

So hopefully, by applying these new techniques I've learned in my classes I can become a better and more effective communicator. I want to change my weakness into a strength and then show others how they can achieve this change as well! 

A leader is much more than a communicator, and there will be more posts to come, so be patient while I figure out what kind of leader I want to be. 

-----------------------------

I'm trying to figure out what I want to do with this blog. It takes a lot of concentration and work to write, but it's something I've been wanting to do for awhile so I'm going to try out a few different types of posts and see what happens! 

This is going to be a series of what I think makes a good leader. I want to identify where I fall short on my definition of a leader and discuss how I can change those weaknesses into strengths. 

Thanks for your attention!

xx