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.
No comments:
Post a Comment