I'm with you.

Growing up, we never went on normal vacations. We went to battlefields, old war zones, different terrains, museums and all corners of America. My dad is a history buff and my mother is a teacher, so they felt the best gift for vacation was that of culture and education. I'm so thankful for that. They never sugar coated the murky, violent history of our country. They exposed us to the victories and the disasters, the cruelty and the humanity that America has faced. They told us about awful presidents and noble ones, much like the varying degrees of humanity seen in individuals in general. As we walked across western hills, burnt grass from the summer heats crunching below our feet, you could almost smell Native American blood soaking the land. You could almost taste the gunpowder. In the north, we learned about the Revolution and new settlers forming together to rise up and overcome. You could feel the revolutionary ideas still whipping in the wind. In the south, in the blood-soaked, tear-drenched fields of labor, I could almost hear the somber gospels of past slaves echoing in the distance. It was melancholic, beautiful, hopeful. These were my spring breaks. I never came back tan from a house on the beach or dehydrated from riding countless rides in Disney Land. My vacations shattered me. They opened my narrow mind to the history of this country, the sorrows of our people, the triumphs over evils.

When I came back from the Philippines, I was overcome with emotion and gratitude to be on American soil. I remembered the history lessons imparted to me on my vacations, the new lessons I learn everyday, and the ones I learn internationally: we are privileged. If you don't believe this, please, volunteer overseas or simply visit a developing country. We are not perfect and have a long way to go in terms of equality and we must not forget this, but I implore you to truly experience life outside of America. This is not me saying that the home issues we are experiencing are trivial, but I am suggesting that a wider perspective is vital (in literally all aspects of life).

I am beyond proud to be an American, I am proud of our flag because it is a symbol for such beautiful ideals, ones that may have been occasionally shit upon by the chosen leaders of our land, ones occasionally shit on by the people who CHOOSE to live here. Please have faith in your fellow citizens to help make this country better than yesterday. Have respect for a flag that STANDS for something, but only if you maintain and uphold those ideals in your daily living. I'm not "with her" and I'm not "with him". I am with all of you, because together we can uphold values people have died for and still die for (not just speaking military). We are all living on this planet, doing the human thing the best way we know how--sometimes, it's sadly the way we were taught. Help educate your friends in a compassionate way if you disagree with their views. Stand up when you see a stranger treat another fellow human poorly. Be humble. Be gentle. Be kind. Always be searching for solutions, after seeking the wider perspective. Give thanks for every breath taken. Befriend someone different than you... hell, become friends with someone you might find vile--and then listen to them. You might find you share common ground. You might find they are exactly what you thought--vile. Love them anyway.

Do we not destroy our enemies when we make them our friends?

the sunrise

I believe in synchronicity. I believe this past month has been full of tension, depression, anxiety. Nearly everyone I speak to has felt a shift these past few weeks and many have been consumed with misery. The day my friend killed himself, almost every person I spoke to that knew him had a restless night, myself included. I woke up at around 3 and viewed his Snapchat, which showed cute pictures of him as a child, full of funny captions. In the morning, we awoke to a post of a beautiful sunrise--typical of him, yet with an unsettling message that said he loved us, he was sorry for a selfish act.

This was a man, full of life. This was a man, full of humor and love. Even if you did not know him personally, or barely,  you felt his infectious energy. He could make anyone smile. Is it possible someone can be so consumed with life, it swallows them whole?

A few hours after his post, we were told he had taken his own life-- bathed in that gorgeous, final sunrise.

A sunrise symbols a new day...hope, redemption. Darkness departs, and golden light is brought in. The sun, which has never actually disappeared, has uncloaked it's mask of night: a new day is revealed.

The soul-crushing, dark hole of depression. The breath-stealing, heart-squeezing, fear-assigning slap of anxiety. I have found myself here. I know I'm not alone in these feelings, yet when depressed or anxious, the only thing you do feel is alone. The darkest before dawn. This is what it feels like.

There are scientific explanations for mental illness; there are psychological explanations; there are ethereal and esoteric explanations. There may be reasons as to why someone decides to end their life; but these reasons do not matter. What matters is that they lived. That they touched lives that will forever be changed by having known them. That they impart these lessons that should be easy enough to learn, but aren't:

We must stand together. We must celebrate each other while we are here. We must turn to the happiest, as well as the saddest, person in the room and still ask, "Are you okay? Like really, truly okay?" We must be honest with each other. Individually, we must cut the drama from our lives and spend more time with the people who make us the most happy. We must smile at and still care about the people who don't. We must turn to anyone for help, and be that person who will help anyone. We must love ourselves and each other. We must enjoy each sunrise and sunset. We must not be afraid to have these conversations.  We're in this together.

Depression is real. Suicide takes the lives of many beautiful souls; statistically, many are men. There is this paradigm that men must be strong, resilient, independent. That they should not show vulnerability. I call bullshit on this. As humans, both male and female, we should be free to express the wide range of emotions we experience.

I know that whatever our friend was experiencing, he felt he could not express. I know that the darkness of our minds can consume. But I also know our world needs to change. We need more love. We need more vulnerability. We need more softness.

Be kind to the darkest parts of you today.  Tell someone what they mean to you. Ask for help. And if you watch the sunrise, know that a beautiful soul, gone too soon, is on the other side of it.

Valedictorian Speech

I'm still humbled by and in awe of this accomplishment. Not many people believed in me when I started nursing school, probably rightfully so. People will put us into boxes our whole life--do not let these constructs limit your potential or define you. Shine your light and don't shrink back for fear of judgment or ridicule. You're all amazing and should be proud of everything you've ever done; it has made you stronger and illuminated.

Valedictorian Speech

I wrote the ending of this speech first. When I pondered why, I realized that endings are easy, although they are bittersweet. We know where we have been; we have lived the experience; we remember. There is nostalgia, but there is no uncertainty with endings. Beginnings are harder because of anticipation; we don't know where the journey will lead us, we don't know what to expect, we cannot predict what is to come. When we started nursing school, we could not fill in the blanks of where we would be at the end. We had just hoped to make it there. And here we are—welcome to the very end of a chapter, and the beginning of a new journey.

We have many people to thank who have helped shape us along the way. Nursing school instructors, I believe, are of a different breed. From Nursing 110 to 311, each educator melded a passion for nursing with the patience of a teacher. While each instructor taught us vital knowledge, they also imparted us with something greater. Their words of passion taught us to take care of this career; professionalism, pride, and honor must follow us wherever we go. Their personal stories illuminated what it truly takes to be nurse; it is not just rudimentary memorization of pathologies, labs, and skills. We can explain a diagnosis to a patient, the intricate workings of our bodies and the ways it can fail, but if we do not show our patients compassion and support, we have insurmountably failed them as a human being. We have been continually reminded throughout nursing school that holding a patient’s hand, sitting with someone when they cry, and helping a patient to a dignified death are among the lessons that cannot be taught. Our teachers and our preceptors have inspired us to be our best selves when tough situations occur. Thank you for teaching us the invaluable lessons and knowledge we will need. Thank you for dealing with us, especially after exams when we would incessantly argue nursing rationales—some of those battles we won; most we did not. And thank you, most of all, for believing in us.

Our families and friends are the behind-the-scenes MVPs. Nursing school is no easy feat and rest assured, the people closest to us could attest to just how miserable it can make a person. You guys were often the brunt end of our frustration and anxiety. Though you had no clue what “r on t phenomena” is and had little interest in hearing the gruesome details of childbirth, especially during dinner, you still listened faithfully, if not a little pale. When stress levels were high, you had the foresight to drag us out to dinner or for a walk to keep our minds clear. You watched our children when we needed the extra hours of studying; I know how important this was to the parents of our group, as their children were their motivation to succeed. When we could not visualize this very moment, you reminded us of our purpose, our potential, our goals. If we disappeared for weeks on end, you understood and waited for us to resurface. You dried our eyes when we had a hard day and made us laugh to forget the stress. We thank you for understanding as best as you could, and we thank you for being our biggest supporters.  

I’d like to turn now and address my classmates. I think Abraham Lincoln said it best when he said: “Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed, is more important than any other one thing.” If I had chosen to believe every doubt, every label; I would not be standing here in front of you all today. If you had chosen to believe every doubt, every label, you would not be sitting here today, about to receive your nursing school pin. Instead, we chose to believe in ourselves. We chose to believe in each other. I am going to ask you to please stand. There is a yoga pose called ‘tadasana’, or ‘mountain pose’; stand with your feet together or slightly apart, raise your shoulders up and round them back and down, and allow your hands to gently hang by your side. Though it is a simple standing pose, there is much meaning I find within it.

Your feet are planted firmly on the ground, as your base, bearing your weight. We must always remember to stay grounded and to stay rooted in the foundation of knowledge and skills we've acquired. We raise our shoulders up and drop them back to open up the space where our heart beats. This reminds us to always follow our heart, learn to listen to our own needs and to do what we love. With our backs straight, the tops of our heads reaching for the sky, our feet firmly planted, and our legs strong... we find balance. We must always seek equilibrium within our lives. It is essential to balance work with play; we are not defined solely by our careers and accomplishments. And finally, we find stillness in this pose. Yet even as we are still, quiet, our bodies may continue to sway, or our muscles twitch, or our mind chatter. Our lives will become hectic, full of movement and chaos. We must find stillness, peace within the motion of life. And it is only with balance, an open heart, and a firm foundation that we are able to do so. You guys may sit.

Our class is an accumulation of many personalities. We do not have the same stories; we do not share the same past; we will not have the same future. I won’t share with you my reasons for becoming a nurse—you each have your own. But I will impart you with this last reflection.

If we were to strip away the material things of our life; if we were to remove our schooling, and our degrees, and our learned experiences; if we remove the titles we've accumulated and aim to gain--sibling, friend, spouse, child, parent, and soon—nurse, whatever labels we have etched into our persona...if these things were to disappear, we must ask ourselves what remains. What makes your heart beat? What allows your mind to view the world as a child, with wonder and awe? What makes your soul thrive? (This isn't a select all, I promise). There is something within each of us that will fill our life with joy and it will guide our practice as nurses if we allow it to shine. Perhaps it is compassion, or empathy, or justice; a need to help, a need to save, a need to heal. Whatever it is-- Listen to it. Follow it. It will keep you sane in the moments of chaos, and will aim your compass in the direction of your true north.

 To the June class of 2016--my friends, an amazing group of humans and a wonderful bunch of nurses to be--I congratulate you all, for your hard work and for the evolution we've all gone through over these oh so fun years. To quote one of the most intelligent teachers I've ever known, "You never know how much you don't know until you graduate."  Let's go out there, with passion, with conviction, with the stuff our souls are made of, and show them what we DO know!

"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born." ◇ Anaïs Nin

◇◇◇
 

Some of the friendships we have, we've had forever. Some are new and can be just as beautiful. What matters is that we have them and that we nourish them. There are times when we all have experienced someone being a "bad" friend; sometimes that person is us. There are times we lose touch with someone, but their memory and the gifts of friendships they left you with will endure.

Women, in particular, have some of the most flourishing and beautiful connections with each other. There is something in a friendship shared between women that is not repeated elsewhere. As much of a best friend your significant other should be, nothing will replace the bond formed between girlfriends. I've been thinking about all the ways friendship can uplift us, especially when you reflect on the course of that friendship. A friend is a keeper of fears, secrets, dreams, desires. A favorite quote of mine is by the Persian poet, Hafiz and it can be viewed in a romantic, as well as platonic, manner.

"Even after all this time the sun never says to the earth, 'You owe me.' Look what happens with a love like that. It lights the whole sky."

Friendship is not about what is owed. It is not about keeping track. It is about being there in the quiet moments, to hear what is not being said. It is sharing in laughter, in joys, in dreams. It's about being weird together, seeing past flaws, and believing in each other.

I read an article recently about friendship and the lack of a "ceremony" tied to this type of relationship. Though there may not be a formal ceremony to celebrate your bind to a friendship, it is supremely important to honor your friends, to rejoice in this unique duality, to commemorate that person. Personally, I enjoy tying the knot with a best pal by popping a cork. However it is you celebrate, do it often with your closest friends. Rejoice in making new ones. Allow meeting new people or reconnecting with old friends open a new world within you. Take care of the best friends you do have and revisit the moments that brought you closer together.

The road to the end can be quite long...it doesn't need to be boring or lonely.

 

Serva Me, Servabote: Save me and I'll save you

Serva Me, Servabote: Save me and I'll save you

They shared the same tattoo. It said the same thing, translated into the same phrase..."Serva me, Servabote": Save Me and I'll Save You. She believed it with all her heart; she had saved him. He could have gone down a different path, the path of destruction and trouble, a path too many of his friends were heading down. But she had done it: tamed the wild animal, made him love her. Still, you can take a lion out of the jungle, but you can never take the jungle out of the lion. He was in need of some salvation.

He was going to move in with her, pick up his life in Jersey and head down to Florida, where she had moved to escape the madness of her cluttered mind. She needed a permanent vacation, shocked by how much his disease had consumed her, but she wanted him to move down with her anyway. Yet like all wild animals, they use instinct. His moves were predictable. I had seen him go through two of my other good friends, ripping their hearts out with his jagged teeth, his sharp claws. He was in need of some salvation.

The next step in his predictable line of action: draw back. He is afraid. He has always been afraid. Lies, manipulation, mind games...the usual batch of toxic words and recycled phrases and actions. His claws sank deeper into her flesh. Hundreds of miles away, she cried out in anguish. Her hurt stretched the distance, but fell short of meeting him. He had pushed her farther away than she actually was. He was scared and she had believed in him, having faith, trust, hope in him. Hope that maybe if she could save him, he could save her. He was in need of some salvation. She was in need of some salvation.

She said, "I have a tattoo on me that doesn't mean anything. Because I never saved him." Serva me, Servabote. Save me and I'll save you. Bruised and battered from the wild lion, her last drops of hope in something, someone were drying up. She was in need of some salvation.

I told her, "Maybe it does mean something still. That as much as you try to save another person, the truth is you can only save yourself." We're all in need of some salvation.

the poetry of "why"

"I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious." -Albert Einstein

 ☽

I had a class when I went to St. John's University that taught me to critically question everything I've ever been told or taught. Surprisingly, it was a theology class. We would read religious texts and then essays written by atheists. I had been dreading theology, since everyone in our school said it was a bore, but I was lucky enough to have a progressive thinker for a teacher who wanted to present us with both sides of the story.

Growing up I questioned everything, and still to this day you can count on me to ask "why" a hundred times in a day. I have never been okay with a simple response. I want a deep, thoughtful answer that considers different views. Not: "this is the way it's always been done", or because "this is what we've been taught." My best friend Christina can attest to the fact that our priest hated me, as I questioned everything he said. Not because I was a rude, disrespectful teen, but because curiosity is one of my most defining characteristics.

I'm sure your mom, like my own, always used annoying cliches to get her point across. One of my mother's favorites was "curiosity killed the cat", but (not shockingly), I disagree. Curiosity, the question of "why", the art of pondering, is vital to our growth and expansion. There is poetry in why. Asking a question allows your mind to explore a topic in detail, to become familiar and unfamiliar with it, to alter your perception on something you once or currently believe.

There is a Russian word, "ostranenie", which embodies the question of why. It means defamiliarization; it's an artistic technique to view ordinary things, concepts, and objects as new, in order to expand perception of it. We must constantly be questioning concepts and beliefs in order to see them as new or to gather a deeper understanding. How can you believe in something without having a rounded view of it? I struggle sometimes with my career in nursing, because so many just accept what they are told, taught, or have experienced. But it is ignorant to be stuck in this one-sided view. Go deeper. Ask why. Question everything. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but at least he has died with conviction, with creativity, with adventures, and with having answered his call to question. 

I urge you to look at the other side of everything you have ever been taught. Be curious in your craft, in your spirituality, in your relationships, in how you orchestrate your life. Do not just accept the plated version of your knowledge. Deconstruct everything. Find the raw materials of a fact, look at it from different angles, point of views, and heights. Play devils advocate. And always, always ask "Why?"

☾

When Cancer is Stigmatized

*This is a fictional story in order to portray a problematic health issue that many are ignorant about.*

My brother was diagnosed with cancer yesterday. They said the cancer may be terminal, as it has reached his brain.

"You did this to yourself, you made choices in your life that caused this cancer to come into fruition. I'm sorry, but there is not much we can do. Unless you want help, there is actually nothing we can do."

My brother said, "What are my options?"

"Chemo. Radiation. Radical surgery. Otherwise, nothing. These are the few options we allow for rehabilitation. You will most likely die otherwise." They glared at him, disgusted by his diagnosis. He chose this life, they think. "That, of course, is just the beginning. You will need to alter your behavior, regulate your emotions, and make better decisions in your lifestyle. You will need to leave behind those people you call friends, the ones that probably made this issue worse. You will need to change everything you are, forget about where you have been and work hard, everyday, to keep the cancer away."

But, they don't tell him, you will be stigmatized, no matter how hard you work. Cancer, a diagnosis only losers are worthy of.

Since the cancer has spread into his brain, his mind has become clouded, affected by the rapidly-dividing cells evading his tissues. He places his face in his hands, overcome with grief. He is dying, and no one seems to care. He wants to get help, but the cancer kind of feels nice...different...it alters his brain in a way nothing has before.

"How did this happen?" He wonders out loud.

"Well," they begin, "you have terrible coping mechanisms. You're a sensitive person, too sensitive, and you have been damaged by the world. Yet, you weren't able to deal with whatever life threw your way. The sense of abandonment, the pressures of the world... such a shame that you are not strong like the rest of us. Cancer will make a person do some really bad things, it will rip your family apart. Cancer is a choice...you chose this life. Your way of dealing with life, different from ours, has caused this cancer. And this, we're afraid, we cannot feel sorry for."

"They" portrayed above is the ignorant half of society. And "cancer", a well-known and beautifully-spoken about medical diagnosis in our world, represents substance abuse. How weird was it to read that "cancer is a choice" and that my brother is "undeserving" of compassion because of his "cancer diagnosis"?

Unfortunately, this is a world in which we live--where certain diseases are celebrated, survivors are revered, money is acquired to raise awareness and fund research. Substance abuse is seldom this disease. There are still so many ignorant comments being made. I get it--many of us are touched by substance abuse, whether personally or through a close family member, friend, acquaintance. Some of us feel angry about it. Why should your child know a father or mother who is never there, because they are getting high? Why should your jewelry be robbed by an addict, who needs a means for getting high? Why should your mother spend restless night, crying and worrying about a brother, nodding out while he smokes a cigarette?

Your right. WHY?

Let's face the facts:
1. Substance abuse and cancer are both medical conditions that can negatively affect a patient and their family.
2. Both are diseases that are influenced by environment, personal choices/lifestyle, and genetics.
3. NEITHER are a choice-- it is asinine to say someone tries a drug with the intention to become an addict. The same way one does not say, "I hope to get cancer one day!" (Replace cancer with any other medical condition...)
4. One comes with a stigma, a permanent brand by society, deemed as undeserving of compassion. The other is celebrated in walks, charity, research.
5. The treatment options for substance abuse are slim. It is in serious need of reform. We are in serious need of education.
6. Prevention is KEY--against both cancer and substance abuse.
7. People with either illness are deserving of compassion and help. They deserve empathy and options.
8. Even if a person does not want help (i.e. rehab from drugs, chemo/surgery for cancer, etc) there are many other options to increase an individual's quality of life. Some are taboo, but we must be willing to meet the patient where they are in life. (i.e. harm reduction for substance abuse; use of aromatherapy/herbs for cancer).

I have heard so many negative comments about individuals who abuse substances. Call me biased, because I have been touched by these individuals, but I have come a LONG way. I used to be full of anger, disgust, no remorse for these "people". I felt it was a choice too, that they did not deserve my empathy or compassion. Until one day, that anger polluted me. I couldn't take it anymore, I couldn't stand crying about it and incessantly wondering, "WHY?" So I finally answered those questions. I educated myself. I forgave the people in my life who have been diagnosed with an illness, a misunderstood DISEASE. And I will work, everyday, to shed light on it. Because we are all in need of a little more compassion, understanding, and empathy. Regardless of our medical conditions, lifestyle choices, genetics, and circumstances.

For more information about drug abuse visit:
https://www.drugabuse.gov/publications/drugfacts/understanding-drug-abuse-addiction
https://www.drugabuse.gov/
http://www.samhsa.gov/

Also... food for thought: