last days in Nicaragua: a heavy heart

Per usual, I apologize in not keeping up the blog as frequently as I should have. I was prepared to write about my last couple weeks, when on Monday morning, I was shocked with the news that one of my good friends from home died suddenly on Sunday. Sam Rathnow, a neighbor, a former Manual alumni, and above all a friend, was one of the most genuine, kind, and well-rounded people I have ever known. Coming home to see him over breaks was always such a pleasure, as he welcomed you with open arms and that incredibly handsome smile. He was always so interested in what you were doing or what you had to say, even though he was accomplishing great things on his own, finishing up his senior year at Appalachian State University. I was so excited to share my stories of abroad with him, as he has spent a good amount of time in Nicaragua himself.

It is with a heavy heart then, that I head home a day early in order to attend his memorial. It's hard to have proper closure of my life-changing semester, and to have proper closure with his passing. Also, this tragedy opened a similar wound left by the death of another incredible friend of mine, Gus McCravey, who passed over the summer; both 21-year-old vibrant, young men.

For my final project however, we're required to reflect on ourselves as "agents of change," and this opportunity to write allowed me to express not only things I've discovered over the semester, but the struggles I've had with the passing of two friends. I'm presenting my writing below, as well as picture of Sam.

Sam on one of his many travels.

Dedicated to Sam and Gus:

There’s an old saying, and I’m not sure of its origin or who was the first to say it, but I’m sure it is something that all of us have heard: “the only thing that is constant, is change.” We all understand that the world we live in today is one of rapid change, with the increased technology that has occurred over the past century allowing us to buy things with a click of a mouse, to send a message through a phone. Change is not only constant, but it is everywhere around us. Change is slow, change is sudden, change is personal, and change is large-scale.

            When thinking of myself as an agent of change, it’s often hard to believe that I have much effect on anything outside of my personal context. I am one; one voice, one body, one mind. It is the ever-present argument of the democratic system, “I only have one vote, so what does it matter?” But to think in this way is stifling, selfish, and incorrect. The changes of the world may seem like large entities of thousands, too big to count and too powerful to measure, but it’s ignorant to ignore that they often started as a power of one, of two, or of few. The changes started within the inner-workings of one, and their ability to arrive at a place within themselves to embrace and embody their motives for change.

            The author Robert Pisnig, in his book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance states, “The place to improve the world is first in one's own heart and head and hands, and then work outward from there.” To be an agent of change then, one must be certain and comfortable in their ability to enact such a transformation outside of themselves; it won’t work if you are not fully convinced and believe in what you are fighting for. This is where I sit, currently, as a 21-year-old young woman swirling in a world of uncertainty, trial-and-error, and becoming. In popular culture, the teenage years are painted as being painful, tough, and filled with anxiety and angst. However I think this is a misconception, because no one warned me how hard the twenties were going to be.  My years as a twenty-something have consisted of a relationship, a break-up, a devastating moral misstep and continual recovery, three new countries, new anxieties, new friends, and the tragic loss of two excellent ones as well. My strength, endurance, and soul have been tested in ways I’ve never imagined, and my continual blooming in life has only showed me that, as they say, it only gets harder.

            Just as the twenties are filled with beauty and curiosity, they are equally as complicated and hard to digest. I am discovering slowly the complexities of life, the deep trenches that were not too long ago unknown to me, as well as the high peaks that are hard to climb but worth the struggle. It’s a constant wonder of, “am I doing this life thing right?” What will I make of myself, how will I treat others, will I make my mother proud, am I living a fulfilling life, will I be happy with what I am? It seems that the entering of adulthood and the continuation through life is filled with this wonder, and that this is just the beginning. And all the while, as we’re pondering these incredibly boggling questions, we must continue to stay positive, experience life with happiness and gratefulness, and remain humble. Just as the musical artist Michael Fronti says, “sometimes the hardest thing to do is just to stay human.”

            While I strive to make myself an agent of change, I must first be securing who I am. It is a conscious struggle at first, in which we leave our inner kingdoms of self and look outwards to the world community. It is our incredibly unique ability as humans to be freethinking individuals that can simultaneously enact change and be conscious of our ability to do so. The author David Foster Wallace succinctly explains in his 2005 Kenyon College Commencement address this battle: “The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day.” As beings on this planet, we are all in this together; if I live my life in such an “unsexy way” then I hope that others are sacrificing in ways that will help me as well. We can find beauty and change in everything; the birth of new relationships, the loss of others. Each is a lesson, each is a chance to make a change in us, to turn around and make a change in others.

            So this ever constant change in the intricacies of life? Yeah, I’m still working on that part. I’m still digesting, still marinating, still looking for the answers. We all are, and that’s the beauty of this crazy space and time in which we exist. I hope that with each step I take I am building another block of myself, another stride toward a greater change in the world. It’s the belief that as one, I do matter. My vote counts. My voice can be heard. My body can move. But I first, must embody the change in which I hope to cause. I want to conclude with the end of the poem, “Here Am I,” by Anis Mojgani, an award-winning spoken word poet, that deals with the questions of life: “Like some cats say, something is better than nothing / Feet are smarter than an engine / And dreams are stronger than thighs / And questions are the only answers we need to know that we are alive as I am when I have the mind of a child, asking why is 2 + 3 always equal to 5 ? / Where do people go to when they die? / What made the beauty of the moon? / And the beauty of the sea? / Did that beauty make you? / Did that beauty make me? / Will that make me something? / Will I be something? / Am I something? And the answer comes: already am, always was, and I still have time to be.”