Reflection On My Life

Beginning the writing process, I established for myself a mental roadmap. I asked myself what I was trying to say, and what the goal or intent of the writing would be. Was I attempting to persuade my readers, or to be didactic instead? I considered the "how" part of the equation later, and honed each sentence word for word. The how part of the writing process was relatively simple compared to the question of what to say, and why. I had to imbue the paper with social commentary, for there was much to say about these readings.

Entry 1. I didn’t have a goal coming into class at first, but after hurting my toe over the weekend I decided that I would focus on doing my best at physical activities in spite of it. While I had some trouble with the walking and running portions of the exercises, I was mostly successful at completing them all. Also, during the warm up exercises I’ve started to be able to relax my body more, I can now feel my upper arms start to touch the floor when I’m laying down instead of just my hands, shoulders and elbows. This class involved doing some word association games in addition to more work on our open scenes. I didn’t perform any open scenes in front of the class but I did do a few recitals of it with a partner, including with some circumstances given to us by the professor. While previously I found that I was very good at imagining my own circumstances for the scene and acting on those, I feel that I don’t do quite as well when being directed. I think that in the future it will be important for me to learn to naturally use the circumstances I am given in my acting.

Something I have always said is “life is about trials and tribulations, but it’s how you react to them that shapes the person you are.” It all started around my sophomore year of high school, the pain was excruciating and on going for months, and I just wanted answers to why I was in pain. Many doctors said the same thing, but I knew that the amount of pain I was in something was wrong. When I received the gut-wrenching news, my perspective on life changed and I realized who I needed most in my life. God helped me through the predicament that I was placed in, and I learned to grow from the tribulations I had to overcome.

Opening my eyes slowly, I could see millions of cracks cascading my windshield. Trying to move, as the pain began jolting through my body. A surprised voice, grabbing my attention as I became conscious. He was telling me to stay still, as the sound of the saw ate away at my door. I realized then that I was in a terrible car accident and somehow, I survived. This was the moment that changed my life, the moment that Jesus took the wheel. Hours prior to that, I sat alone; sadden, angry and dumbfounded. How could a man I’ve loved for 17 years, love someone else? Thoughts flooded my mind, as I tried drowning my pain with every bottle that hit my lips. Tears flowing down my face, as I slowly began to slip away. Wanting to forget every lie and hoping to erase all the years I sat blinded. The feeling of every breath escaping me, as the couch felt like the only comfort I had.

In 2010, my parents decided to get divorced. I lived in the Fairless Hills/Levittown area and moved to many different condos, apartments, and houses. I did not move to Bethlehem until 2012, I would be in fifth grade attending Spring Garden Elementary School. I was new to the school and I had no friends at all. It was really hard for me get rid of all my friends just to start all over again. I did not fit in at first, but eventually I made friends that I still have today. From reading Persepolis: The Story Of A Childhood, it taught me lessons that I have not been reminded of for quite some time. Lessons that are deemed useful when living through my life. From Satrapi's memoir, I learned that I should be true to myself, I should never take life for granted, and my life is not as perfect as it seems to be.

I use art as a form of escape. At least, that was its initial purpose. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t good (because I was, like, 5). Art made me happy and so I simply continued to make it. I took every art course that my school allowed me to and the few years when they didn’t offer one were torture for my small self. Years later, with permission from my art instructor, I skipped an art course and took AP Studio Art (a senior class) during my junior year. This was the first time that I had the freedom to create whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. My artistry improved drastically alongside my enthusiasm for learning new skills. I went from drawing with pencil to painting with acrylics and watercolors, drawing digitally, sculpting, and even making jewelry. It was like I discovered my passion all over again. Art started to become something more to me, and soon I had dreams of becoming an artist.

Everybody has a different reason why art is important to them. Sometimes it is their hobby or it's what they want to do for the rest of their life. Personally I feel like it's what I’m best at. I put my time and effort into every work of art I make. Every time I make something new I want to show off my skills. Art is a way for me to calm down and put all my thoughts away. A lot of times I over think many things. When my head can't handle all my thoughts, I go to my sketch book. I draw what I was thinking, turning it to a visual representation instead of words. It's a smooth sail from there. Then I can finish my day without wondering and getting distract. For everybody finishing their day is very important.

Going through the motions of life has always been something I am best at. As a twelve-year-old, sports were what my life revolved around. I would go to softball practice, put in blood, sweat, and tears for my team, and I would listen to my coach’s every word. Eventually, this became a habit- at least before I tore my ACL. However, once I tore my ACL, I had to sit out of all physical activity for a year. I had a negative attitude about changing the habit I loved to follow. Once this happened, I became shaky and sick to my stomach. I clinched my fists so hard that my fingernails cut my palms when the doctor said, “This means surgery, and you know what that means? No softball for a whole year” as if he found pleasure in crushing my dreams. I pitched a fit that I had to be in a wheelchair for a week and on crutches for four more weeks. At the end of the season, my teammates, my teammates parents, and my coaches all hugged me and told me that I was “so strong and such a positive and vibrant team player.” Looking back now, sitting out of softball for a year grew my appreciation for my teammates. I learned to approach every situation, good or bad, with an unprejudiced and positive mindset because a willingness to allow something to alter me might allow drastic revision in my life; now, I can utilize what I learned from the situation to instruct someone else.

1999, a time for some people where Y2K was encroaching, a time for others where the famous films Sixth Sense, The Matrix and the beloved Disney film Tarzan was their favorite movie and not to mention definitely a time where we could go to the grocery store and not spend a fortune at checkout. However, for me, this particular year, especially December 7 ,1999, was the worst day of my life.

Over the course of my life, I have had numerous people tell me that I am more than just a soccer player and that I can not always turn to soccer for the answer to my problems. Although soccer is just a sport and it will never be anything more than that, it has taught and shown me more about myself and my personality in my 16 years than most people would learn and experience in their lifetime. Through my experiences, I have crawled and survived through the deepest and darkest parts of the storms of life, but I have also been given the chance to grow and flourish through the stunning and glowing moments of sunshine and warmth. Without being given the opportunity to play soccer, I would not be the person I am today, let alone know the depths and sides of my personality that are buried deep within me. In looking back at my past, it is evident to see that if I had not been blessed with the opportunity to play soccer or been given such a stubborn personality, I would not be alive today.

Let’s talk about life for a moment. I want you to reflect on at least two situations that you deem as the utmost devastating encounter you experienced. On the contrary, reflect on three positive things that make you proud.

I’ve always learned best by relating lecture concepts to my personal life, and this class is no different. I’ve been challenged to see my own development through the perspectives and theories set by psychologists before me, bringing new light to my occasionally quirky personality. The biopsychosocial breaks down into biological – meaning brain processing and genetics, psychological – referring to personal thoughts and motives, and social or environmental situations – the influence of others that shapes who someone may become. Life cycle forces can be attributed with the generation of seemingly new traits as well.

One's dream and aspirations to supersede in life must be stronger and greater than limitations set forth by others. The experience that were bestowed to me during my short life has elevated me to the woman I am today. Please walk with me as I give you the opportunity to see the world from my eyes:

When I started to imagine myself in before starting this class, currently, and in five years as a symbol I had a few different ideas. I first thought more metaphorically, but then decided that it was clearer if I drew myself in actual life situations. In all three drawings, I included a door. This door separates the counseling room from the outside. In the first drawing, I am about to enter my first session with my client. I have my fingers in my mouth, which is a reoccurring nerves tick. I also have sweat running down my face and big eyes. Personally, I was scared to enter the session. I feared being filmed as well as messing up. I have a thought bubble above my head to represent what was going through my head. In that moment, my thoughts were jumbled. Every technique we had learned thus far in class I seemed to have forgotten. I was worrying about making a mistake and I could not think clearly. I was overwhelmed both physically and mentally.

I 'll be honest, I 've had some trouble coming up with words for this one. Between the two saved drafts of my best attempt to scope a coherent thought - that sat open on my laptop screen for several days, available at any moment for my emotional outpouring - I started to feel balance again. In retrospect, like any proper moment of clarity I guess, I used those empty email boxes as a token of escape - a space to distance the thoughts swimming around my head into the somewhere else of Internet purgatory. I didn 't have trouble because I felt anger or rejection that your note didn 't align with my ask, but because I concluded I still want to keep the door open to you and I 'm hesitant, in my own way, about how to navigate those feelings and actions that have transpired in having you as the object of my affection but not.