Seed Seeks Roots

In May, I graduated from the school I had attended since sixth grade. I had deep, longstanding roots at that school.

In times of companionship, those roots were like the healthy roots that allow a sprout to become a tree. They allowed me to surpass my own expectations and grow in the general direction of the person I want to become.

In times of distress, those roots were like the destructive roots of an overgrown tomato plant. After a few years, reinvention felt impossible. The crippling jaws of history left me trapped in the same social patterns year after year.

After graduation, I was ready to escape from the roots that had enabled and trapped my high school self. In college, I could reinvent myself, unbound by my personal history.

I don't have any roots here. However, I cannot claim that I am unchained. My inhibitions, anxieties, timidity, and personality ensnare me in patterns of loneliness and self-doubt.

Still, I am never overlooked. There is always someone ready to greet me by name with a big smile. I can sit with complete strangers at meals and feel welcome.

This shallow impression of companionship doesn't satisfy me. I am tired of gathering factoids. Nothing short of deep personal connections will satisfy me. I don't want to consider loneliness an ineradicable fact of my life.

In short, I want roots. Without roots, courage is nearly impossible. If you are going to jump off the highest diving board without knowing how to swim, you need to know and trust the people who are waiting to catch you.

I am no longer the deeply rooted plant that was my past self. Instead, I am a seed.

For a seed, growing roots is a risky business. If seeds could think, I suppose they would think that they would always be seeds. "Why would I become something bigger?" the seed might wonder. "I'm already a seed!" Like the seed, I will have to abandon the carefully constructed visage that previously enabled and constrained me.

I can't imagine our thinking seed feeling any shame about being a seed. The seed doesn't know anything else. It doesn't think "Gee, what could I do in order to grow roots?". Instead, the seed relaxes and naturally eases into the growing of roots. A true thinking seed would never feel the need to write this blog post; having never felt the tug of roots, it would never miss them. I must embrace being a seed in order to become a plant.

To become a plant, a seed must allow itself to be affected by the elements. A seed cannot say "I will not allow the water and sunshine and soil quality to affect me at all whatsoever" and expect to grow successfully. Instead, it must welcome the outside influences that change it from its original form. In the same way, I cannot pretend to be unaffected by the influences that surround me. When growing roots, it is okay to be sensitive, rather than trying to be tough. 

Honestly, I don't know anything about being a seed. Before today, I awkwardly stumbled through the seed phases of my life in the race towards plantdom. The tangled roots that ensnared me were the consequence of my lack of mindfulness. This time, I will try to enjoy the seed stage before I forget what it is like to be unbounded.

Biting Mshen: On This Day in 2004

Here is a first grade journal entry I wrote about my sister. She is absolutely awesome, despite her sharp teeth!

Transcription:
December 15, 2004
When I am on vkashon I play whif my siser. I love her a lot. She is a baby. She is a biting mshen. And osow she is a pinching mshen. When my dad is at work she sings for him. 

Translation:
December 15, 2004
When I am on vacation, I play with my sister. I love her a lot. She is a baby. She is a biting machine. And also she is a pinching machine. When my dad is at work she sings for him. 

Analysis:
Firstly, I would like to point out that "biting" and "pinching" were two of the only 'big' words I could spell back then, which must mean something. Secondly, the event indicated in the line "When my dad is at work she sings for him" was absolutely adorable. She would stand by the door, singing ballads wishing that he would come home. When he finally did come home, she would launch herself at him with open arms and cling to him like a baby monkey. :)

I hope you enjoyed this blog post!
<3 Lydia 

I Love My Famaly: On This Day in 2004

Here is something I wrote on this day when I was in first grade. I am including a translation (in case you don't speak first grader) and some analysis after my transcription of the journal entry.

Transcription:
December 3, 2004
I love my famaly. Every pirsin in the world has a famaly. If sumwun dusint have a family is trdle. Do You Love Your famaly? Dus Your famaly Love You? I hope You Love Your famaly a lot. Last nite I played scrambl wif my mom and dad I love my htle

Translation: 
December 3, 2004
I love my family. Every person in the world has a family. If someone doesn't have a family, that is trouble. Do you love your family? Does your family love you? I hope you love your family a lot. Last night I played Scrabble with my mom and dad. I love my little [sister?].

Analysis:
I love that I chose to use words that I (mostly) knew how to spell in this entry. I don't think current me would ever ask so many questions of a stranger reading my family. Like, "Hi! It's so great to meet you! My name is Lydia. Do you love your family? Does your family love you? I hope you love your family!".

I hope you enjoyed this post! 
<3 Lydia

Thakfle: On This Day in 2004

Hello! This is a journal entry I wrote on this day when I was in first grade, just before Thanksgiving rolled around. I'm going to transcribe the email as written first, and then provide a translation in case you can't read first-grader speak. I hope you like it!

November 24, 2004
I am sa m thle for my famaly and my frind's and my mom and dad and my toys and m

I am thankfle for my famaly. Becuse thay feed me. , my frind Bcuse they play wif me. I am takefle for my mom too. Becuse she thak's care of me., my toy's Becuse they are the best sege to intrest my baby sisr.

Translation:
November 24, 2004
I am so thankful for my family and my friends and my mom and dad and my toys and my...

I am thankful for my family, because they feed me, my friends because they play with me. I am thankful for my mom too, because she takes care of me. My toys because they are the best thing to interest my baby sister.

Analysis:
First of all, I would like to take note that spell check went crazy in that second unedited paragraph. Secondly, did you notice that I just booted my mom out of my family? Like, I said I was thankful for my family, then talked about my friends, and then I was like "Oh, by the way, I am thankful for my mom too!". Also, why aren't I thankful for my dad, my sister, or my pets? I remember being very thankful for those things in addition to my toys and mom. Additionally, did you notice that my toys were only referenced in relation to my sister? Do you know why? It was because I didn't really care much for my toys. Or, at least not as much as I cared about my dad, my sister, and my pets...

I don't know. My first grade self had her priorities pretty messed up.
<3 Lydia

A Letter to My Eighth Grade Self

Dear Past Self (circa eighth grade),
   Hi! This is you, in your (our?) senior year of high school. You made it! No, you were not held back multiple times like you expected. In fact, you even continued your education at the same slightly-snobby liberal arts school you started out at. 
   You know that one friendship you don't want to destroy, but also don't want to be miserable in? You will end up destroying it and breaking her heart. Sorry. But do not despair! After deciding that you don't deserve friendship for awhile in tenth grade, you will (very slowly) begin to develop new friendships and rejuvenate old friendships. You haven't even met some of your future friends yet.
   I know you are wondering about some things. Yes, you will be reunited with your history project friends (although not all of them will remain your friends). The leader of your grade will be restored to her throne. Your senior play is amazing so far. Yes, you will get an important role. No, you are not a terrible actor and yes, you will improve significantly.
   While I have your attention, a note on crushes: you will actually be totally fine if you don't end up dating anyone anytime soon. Trust me on this. You do not need some random guy in your class (who is definitely not interested in you by the way) to fall in love with you in order to be amazing. (Your future self is a bit of a feminist. Come to think of it, so is one of the guys you will like this year. He wouldn't approve, and neither do I.)

Please remember:

• Grambee's laugh
• that trying to be just a little bit happy is more beautiful than the poetic angst of being sad
• to actually try hard in all of your classes (Don't even try to tell me that you're trying your best. I have seen your useless internet browsing. I have written every note you passed in Latin class.)
• that amazing, supportive, and fun people are always around if you seek them out

Lots of love,

Your Future Self

A Blast from the Past: Sophomore Year

Today, I want to do something a little bit different. Recently, I looked back at my planner from sophomore year and found all sorts of wonderful little snippets. I hereby present to you...Lydia's Sophomore Year.

Stickers and jellyfishes=a fairly typical overly-decorated planner page. Highlights include "Boris: The Tortoise that Just Keeps on Trekking' and "What if soy milk is just regular milk introducing itself in Spanish?".

More stickers! Highlights include "Put your heart in the art"  (I think my choir teacher said this.) and "'I don't steal dreams; I crush them'", which is a direct quote from one of my friends. (My friends are so great, you guys. Like, you don't even understand.)

Highlights of this page include "Es un buen idea le haces la tarea el tiempo primero" ("It is a good idea for you to do the homework the first time") and a really long quote from Hobbes' Leviathan (I thought I was so deep.)

A quote from one of my classmates from when we were studying European history.

I have a weird way of dealing with stress. In 10th grade, this weird way included putting pictures of babes in my planner.

A tribute to Valentine's Day! I made the sticker using an image of fireworks from a magazine. The slip of paper reading "I wanna hold your heart in both hands" was found near the middle school boys' locker area at my school. The bottom image is a Princess Leia made out of balloons that I cut out from a magazine. 

If anyone ever makes a documentary about my life, I want these words to be used for the opening sequence.

There was this one time when I took a really intense history-based final with a lot of short answer and essay questions. After passing in my final, I played a game of Tic-Tac-Toe with the person next to me. Notable details include the cats I drew over the Tic-Tac-Toe boxes to indicate when it was a cats' game. 

In my sophomore year, I didn't just focus on doing homework, making stickers, and writing down goofy things people said. I also worked on self-improvement quite a bit. Here is a list of short-term life goals I found: 

This list of goals is interspersed with advice from my classmates; at one point during the year, we had a really long Facebook comment discussion that turned to giving me helpful life advice. I'm proud to say that I have finally completed most of these "short-term" life goals. 

I came into my sophomore year thinking that it was going to be the best year of my life. Um...it wasn't. Still, it was one of the years where I grew the most as a person and as a student. Although I struggled through the year at some points, I became a better person as a result. Thank you to all the people who made sophomore year amazing! You are wonderful. 

~Lydia

The Very Funny Bear: On This Day in 2005

Some of you may have seen this one on my Facebook, but I feel like it deserves to exist here anyway. This is a short story I wrote in my first grade journal on this day in 2005. I hope you enjoy it!

Transcription:
May 16, 2005
The Very Funny Bear
The bear is very funny. His name is John the Bear. I like him a lot. He is eating the little girl. Isin't the girl cute. He is selesh. You can't beleve all the things he eats. His wifes name is Sera Bear. She is funny too. When they fight they have funny fights. When they dance they do a funny dance. When they sing a song its a funny song. They are relly funny. And I like funny.
By
Lydia

The journal entry was written based upon this picture:

 

Analysis:
I would like to start by quoting the commentary I wrote when I posted this on my Facebook: "And I was beginning to wonder why I tend to befriend funny people (with weird senses of humor) and poor spelling". Additionally, I would like to point out that my little six-year-old brain went for the most violent route possible, rather than choosing the equally rational interpretation that the little girl was brushing the bear's teeth. I also made him a selfish bear who I strangely found funny. I don't know what exactly first grade Lydia was thinking...

<3 Lydia