Tag: appreciation

By chance

April 30, 2022 by Cassandra Johnson

Kat said I should stay in the room with fewer people. (At this time in our life, fewer people meant 4) The thought seems so funny now. What seems so small when I look around my spacious apartment today was suddenly luxury in contrast to the other rooms available.

Back then, I grew accustomed to situations that were mainly just housing/homes in the midst of a lot of outside activity. There were hostels with just enough room and shared bathrooms and shared responsibilities and maybe circumstances did not matter so much then because we were younger (not necessarily young, some of us but not all, but just being younger in general) and maybe because we knew how fortunate we were to be in a situation where we could help others, maybe because this was temporary, and maybe just because we were on a mission. We could forget luxuries and space and privacy we had left in our originating homes.

Instant acceptance and understanding came through just Kat’s messages alone before we got to this in-person decision. Much more than the instant relief we were receiving from being impromptu traveling companions, I knew she was more than cool and gracious in the current goals we shared, and in our breaks (her from school life and me from work), we wanted to do something else that we felt needed to be done. We opened ourselves up to learning more about this region and naturally ourselves. Neither of us had a background in construction but were afforded the opportunity to be around a few people who happened to have this and to use our own unique skills and training in various ways.

I took her up on the room offering. The vacancies were proposed to us at the same time and her perspective made sense. Our first night was spent in a temporary space at a nearby hostel and there was even less room there. Yet, our hosts were gracious and sweet. We were happy to be safe and warm after a stiff bus trip. During that night, we had walked back over to hang out with the rest of the volunteers in the main house (more in Pleasantly Confused). We were surprised, we did not even need to meet the expectation we had to grow into our initial condensed space. We were quickly given the options of the proposed four-person room and her more occupied one just one day later.

She would be there for a few weeks to my intended six months although now I know I would be fine in a number of spaces, either way. In so many ways, I would be okay in a number of spaces and a bit stronger for being open to what was offered. What I saw was not always pleasant but added to my disposition and a lot was indeed beautiful. Kat had coincidentally helped me to the best place for me at the time, to one of my closest friends, who I will always adore.

I could have automatically disregarded my own comfort (as I sometimes tend to gravitate) and there may have been a different story and an opportunity missed but I was learning to take care of myself a little better while taking care of others. We need to be able to do both.

You and Me

APRIL 26, 2020 BY CASSANDRA JOHNSON
Image Credit: Gellinger on PIxabay

Thank you for being here with me again. I’m excited I’ve reached some more subscribers. Sharing my stories here was a bit of a leap of faith. Still is. I appreciate all the encouragement both on this platform and in everyday situations.

I get a message speaking to me every few days and played out in different ways, both verbally and in actions I witness. This is in addition to different overarching and more subtle ones. From some of the influencers I follow, the recurring message is a reminder to be myself in every moment and in case you need the reminder: Also think of what it means to be the real you. Always.

When I was very young, before I knew what a blog was, I wanted to write stories, novels, poems, a book. I loved the play on words. People putting energy and meaning to paper meant the world to me.

I’m fortunate my mom gave me so much encouragement when I would lose myself in what I now know as the source of creativity. Emerging later with a poem, she would be my first audience. She would recall my latest one whenever my aunt was visiting from their home state. “Go and get the poem you wrote.” My heart would be dancing, my feet practically running out from under me. Returning so fast, I would read it proudly, though at the time, I was a shy child developing self-image issues. These are the times I was taller than life.

I got a sense if I could read something, I could learn it. The clarinet naturally aligned with my identity in band and symphony for umpteenth years. I began reading music like the many books I checked out of the local Middletown library. I inhaled them. On one occasion I leaned especially nonfiction, picking up Pelé’s autobiography and a couple of training books, deeming myself officially ready for high school soccer tryouts. There was nothing like the physicality of the conditioning and drills I would endure, and the real world negative and positive experiences. Still, my internalization of words and characters on paper somehow got me to the next and the next, even if that just translated into encouragement and possibilities.

I developed more affinity for the art of language, especially Spanish, as I navigated from junior high to high school. I fancied a vision of some future diplomacy work. Exploring and volunteering would be next. My best-laid plans are in some of my travel stories. Turns out my itineraries were best followed and altered after delving into books, guides and forums like Lonely Planet and National Geographic. Seeing it, (and occasionally planning too much) I finally left to play and live in some spaces I once only imagined.

I see it could be easy to forget even just tiny remnants of what piques our interest before hopefully recalling them again. I know just a few of mine are writing, translating, traveling off-beaten tracks, and connecting with the stories everyone has. What intrigues us doesn’t have to be static, but it’s sometimes helpful, at least for me, to recall that feeling. I sense we all have a sense of what makes us feel alive, when we feel most energetic and interested rather than blasé.

Sometimes, we can look outward and not always fully recall what truly matters the most to us and what we truly want to reflect and share with others. It can happen when trying to fulfill certain everyday expectations and obligations. Every one of us is unique so such metrics can be off putting.

The message coming to me recently from a lot of influencers is that it sometimes took them a while to get back to who they have always been. How easy it is to get caught up when seeking some particular permission or acceptance. Funny how the need to evade rejection or judgement sometimes creeps in or even stuns us.

What I gathered from their lessons is that whether the metrics are perceived or real, the quickest way to the fullest life is being true to yourself in all you do. In turn, you’re true to others. The message was encouraging, seemingly simple, though easily forgotten when moving about the world. A simple reminder I sometimes need when making a choice and a reminder to you in case you ever need it.

Your time is always appreciated. Thank you sharing it here with me. 😊