People and camels

1. One's attitude towards things is everything.

I spent last week in Oxford, three nights of which were spent at St. Anne's. To say the least, being in a completely new environment and surrounded by unfamiliar faces was scary. the first time I arrived at the common room, I honestly felt like an outsider, a stranger, an alien. Groups had seemed to form and I felt awkward and alone. The small, warm room was so unwelcoming for me; when I entered, I wouldn't stay longer than I needed to (e.g. checking the board for updates), making little to no contact with anyone; it was annoyingly warm; I felt inferior and out of place; the crowd made me feel absurdly uneasy.

The problem was these terrible, enclosing feelings I felt. My feelings were constricting my vision and rational thinking took a backseat. My narrowed thinking was all of my own doing... It was all in my head. For one thing, it was utterly illogical to feel inferior in ANY way because one, we are all fundamentally equal, and two, everyone there was on a similar plane of intellect and luck to have been selected for interviews. Thank God I realised what I was doing to myself before I completely butchered this amazing opportunity to meet people and to have a great experience. So, once I overcame the hurdle of introducing myself to someone new, with much lower levels of nerves and self-consciousness, I was convinced that introductions were not difficult or scary at all (unless that's what you make it out to be in your head). The place became less cold :) [not literally, sadly].

I guess one crucial aspect is to simply appreciate what you have. Realising how lucky I was to be there sparked a chain reaction of thoughts, and a list of things I was grateful for. The simplest, and most crucial, thing I was grateful for was being alive (sounds cheesy, but hold on). For instance, I was happy that my flight to Heathrow was safe and that none of the worst case scenarios I had routinely drew up in my head came to fruition. I felt blessed to be in such a fortunate position in life and to know comfort and safety as mere norms, in contrast to families who are torn by unfortunate events. I was, and still am, happy that I'm healthy and that my family and friends are too. Thus, realising and appreciating how lucky I was to be there materialised the impetus to make the most out of this incredible opportunity. The 'smallest' things in life are the most important.

Once my attitude towards things changed, the Danson Room changed as well. The warmth was welcoming, people were kind and wonderful, and I was comfortable. God, my last night at St. Anne's was so wonderfully spent. The thought of it overfills my heart with gratitude. It honestly felt so homey and I was at immense ease talking to some of the people there. I am so overwhelmingly blessed, alhamdulillah.

In short, change is scary. It feels safer and easier to stick to the familiar, to hold on to something you know instead of getting to know the places and people you don't. What you make out of a new place is all in your hands, or, well, head. Define the scariness and unfamiliarity as exciting instead of intimidating. See the silver lining in things, especially when things may seem to be going against you. It is all in one's attitude towards things.

2. People passing by

(ok it's getting late - I'm going to try to keep this short) (or I'll just edit it tomorrow)

This kind of falls in line with having a positive attitude towards new experiences. Your attitude could change because of meeting someone, and vice versa. Cause and effect.

I truly believe in fate. I might not have the strongest argument for my beliefs (yet), but it's just what I have come to believe from experiences.

By some sort of fate, I managed to meet up with these two Stanners who are both friends of my brother's friend, who also goes to St. Anne's. I met and talked with one of them over my first dinner there. In other words, meeting him helped to turn around my flu-ridden, alienated-feeling evening. It was something I needed, which I didn't know I needed.

Basically, it is incredible how meaningful the people who pass by in your life are, even if it is for a short period of time. Despite the underlying unsettling feeling I felt for some time, this person, who had been a stranger a couple of days before, became the core reason of why St. Anne's was so wonderful and homey for me. It's difficult to explain how appreciative I am to have befriended such a great and kind person. Words can't do justice, until I can master the art of expressing/writing haha.

Getting to know who someone is -their interests, character, past, mindset, family, etc - is honestly so humbling and amazing.

This experience has also given me the courage to let go of people in my head, instead of holding on to a bittersweet, longing illusion (e.g. when someone has pretty much 'left' your life but you still hold on to the idea of that person). We are all living our own lives. People come and go. People pass by into our lives when our roads happen to intersect, or consolidate into a two- or multi-laned road? Whatever image floats your boat. I used to be saddened by that idea, but now I think it's pretty exciting and kind of beautiful. How can we move forward and grow to our potential if we stay at the same place and only know a fixed number of people?

[NOTE: it's important to express your gratitude and appreciation :)]

*** thank you to the two Stanners for reminding me that there is still a lot of kindness in this world ***

3. Tie your camel first

I think this pretty much sums up this whole post. Do your part to your best and utmost capabilities before putting your trust in God.

Be open and positive towards new experiences. Be kind and warm when meeting new people; be yourself. Give everything and do your best, but if it didn't turn out as you expected, don't beat yourself up about it (what's the point?).

One of the things I definitely need to work on is worrying less. This line from the movie 'Bridge of Spies' perfectly depicts the uselessness of worrying,
"Would it help?"

Love,
Kamilia