Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Symbols of My Life- Final


Symbols for My Life

            There are various symbols in my life that I use or keep with me on a daily basis. Some symbols are necessities, others are items I use or encounter, while others are people who bring out specific parts of me that other people might not see. Like these people, all the symbols of my life are not only basic items or ideas. They reflect my personality and represent ideas that are much more personal then the simplicity that one may see. What I choose to think are the most important and easily understood symbols in my life are a pair of glasses, a swimming block, and my sister Larkin. They may seem like normal or basic parts of my life that are present for fairly predictable purposes, but I like to look at them in a different way.
            I have worn glasses since I was seven years old. As I matured I decided that I would prefer to wear contacts and normally they are what I wear everyday. I still require glasses however for every night and any other time in my life that they might become necessary. Glasses fulfill a fairly straightforward purpose. My vision is extremely terrible and glasses help to repair and enhance vision. My glasses are made specifically for me and they help me to see. They fix my vision. Anytime I am not wearing my glasses, the entire world is different. Blurry does not begin to explain the way the world looks through my eyes without the proper help glasses provide. I cannot see what is right in front of me. Reading is impossible. Friends find it funny to test your naked vision by trying to get you to distinguish a number of fingers from the blur of a hand you can barely see. Glasses are so important to my life, without them the world and all that is in it is unrecognizable.
            My vision is impaired due to genetics and other unlucky reasons. Without glasses I cannot see the world for what it really is. This can be interpreted in a much deeper way when it is applied to my personality and my tendencies in life. I am the type of person who will put trust in someone, some event, or some idea much to quickly. I tend to become friends with a person not too long after meeting them and at that point in a relationship with someone, it is almost impossible to know all there is to know about them. The same way my vision is impaired, my choice making skills are often impaired because of how easily I trust people. I have spent numerous friendships being blind. I go on in relationships thinking that I know a person but I cannot see them for whom they truly are. Getting to know someone takes time. People often hide their true personality or feelings from people until they sense trust in the relationship. I have found myself to be the opposite of those people, not only putting my true self out in the open early on in relationships, but also believing that the other person is doing the same. I do not always recognize who a person actually is and how they truly act until I stop, put on my glasses, and actually see them for who they are.
             One item that is important to a part of my daily life is a swimming block. It is a somewhat strange symbol, but sometimes simple objects are more then they seem. I am a swimmer and swimming is a sport that takes extensive training and practice. Therefore, I am in the pool and swimming several thousand yards everyday.  A swimming block is like a diving board for racing.  It is a small, square, raised board at the end of a lane of the pool. A swimmer uses the block to dive into the water at the start of a race, gaining distance and speed. As a swimmer, the block is a somewhat scary place. When I get up on the block at the start of a race, all the pressure that has been bottled up inside me, hidden from excited teammates and expectant coaches, just explodes. Staring at the water ahead in that tiny five-second moment when I position myself for a dive, every possible situation plays out in my head. The race for me at that moment is crucial. I must perform the perfect dive, the perfect turn, get the perfect time. The entire experience is terrifying. That short moment atop the swimming block is a moment of sheer terror and worry for me as a swimmer. The block is meant to be a helpful aspect of swimming and racing, but for me it creates a final chance for panic.
            The swimming block moment of my life occurs much too often. Every time I start a new activity or event such as a sport, class, club, or job I am petrified. The thought of what these new opportunities and experiences could hold for my future never fails to horrify me. I worry too much for my own good, and thinking about the expectations that come with these new events sets off extreme panic alarms in my head. In the past I would refuse to try new things simply because of my fear of change and the expectancy that came with it. I did not want to disappoint people. I did not want to make a mistake and ruin the opportunity for the rest of my life. The only solution I found was avoiding the situations. Every time I would climb up on that swimming block, I would want to get right back off. What I have had to learn as I have grown is that the dive may be terrifying, but once I enter the water it pays off. The petrifying start of new opportunities is worth it when I achieve and succeed and ultimately enjoy myself. I still find myself stuck in a moment of fear whenever a new situation appears in my life, but I hold my breath and dive in.
            There are many important people in my life who I could consider symbols for various traits. My sister Larkin however, has always been at the top of my list. Larkin is my younger sister. She is short, sweet, and full of as much attitude as every other eleven year old. We fight just as often as we get along, but we love each other extreme amounts and that is what I like to think matters most. Larkin is special because she is a survivor of brain cancer. When I was eleven and Larkin was seven, she was diagnosed in Baton Rouge and put through immediate surgery to remove the majority of the cancer.  Three months later Larkin was sent to St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital in Memphis, Tennessee for radiation and chemotherapy to wipe away all other traces of cancer. Due to this, my family had to move to a small apartment in the center of Memphis for about a year. My parents and Larkin lived in the apartment, but I was only allowed to visit on certain weekends and holidays due to school. I lived out of a suitcase and backpack, staying with my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and occasionally friends for an entire year. I barely saw my family and all news of Larkin and her progress came through afternoon phone calls and Facebook updates. It was a very difficult time for my family and I, Larkin going through a situation so unbelievable and painful, and my being away from them made the entire situation harder for me.
            Larkin is now a symbol that is much more than special to me. Knowing that I could have lost my sister at some point, knowing that she could have lost the ability to speak, hear, maybe even move due to this horrible cancer inside of her, it makes me more conscious of how precious family and life is to me. The move that my family had to make also changed who I am as a person. I was only eleven; I had no idea what was going on for a majority of the time spent in hospitals. I was young and reliant on my parents for all that I had and did. My parents leaving me to fend for myself and figure out where I needed to be and do with no help or guidance really pushed me into maturity. I do not think I would have grown up as soon as I did if it were not for the cancer appearing in Larkin’s life. It was difficult being forced to grow up at the time, but I am thankful for it now. I have gained much more and I can be independent when I need to be. Larkin is my younger sister and I was always supposed to be the mature role model for her. Now, after such a life-changing event, I look at my sister and I know that I am the mature role model that she needs.
            In conclusion, who I am as a person has been modified over time. These three symbols not only represent important traits that I possess, but also improvements that I have made or steps I have taken as I have grown. My glasses have taught me to look for who people really are. The swimming block has become a place for a new beginning. Larkin is my constant reminder of strength and maturity that I hope I can continue to possess. These three symbols are important to my past, and how the past has taught me to change my future. 

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