Christopher Aiff, Augustus Waters, and the Great Wide World of Happiness

There's this channel on YouTube called SoulPancake. It's a wonderful channel really, but they have so much content all the time that I don't always watch all of it. However, I decided to go and catch up on some things.

SoulPancake has a lot of different "sub-shows." One of them is My Last Days, which seems to be about people with terminal diseases, mainly different kinds of cancer. And this is when, Ladies and Gentlemen, I present unto you all: Christopher Aiff.

Christopher has Osteosarcoma in his leg, just like Augustus from TFiOS. He doesn't (seem to) have a prosthesis, but he does have a scar. And he is one of the most inspiring people I've ever met.

You should watch the video, but basically, he was going through chemotherapy and just before the final treatment, he decided he didn't want to do it anymore. His family supported his decision, and at the time this video was filmed, he had six months and two days left to live.

What I really love about Christopher is 1. his charisma and 2. his happiness with the situation. Honestly, one of the best quotes from the video is:

"The decision to be positive is not one that disregards or belittles the sadness that exists. It is rather a conscious choice to focus on the good and to cultivate happiness...for happiness is not a limited resource."

Maybe "happiness" isn't quite the right word. He says himself that he would still be grateful for more time if the world were willing to allow it. But he does not moan or mope. In fact, he says -

"...when we devote our energy and time to trivial matters and choose to stress over things that ultimately are insignificant, from that point we perpetuate our own sadness, and we lose sight of the things that really make us happy, and rationalize our way out of doing amazing things."

The dying are often the most content with their situation, simply because they must be. I am quite sure that I don't realize how much I have. I am, when I try to see it, among the more fortunate people on this earth.

Ultimately, Christopher says:

"I want to be remembered as someone who did their best."

And who am I to want for more? I want so much. I focus on how I'm not good enough, and maybe sometimes that's a good thing. I live through my learning, yes. But I don't only live through toil. I live through music and art and writing and so many other things too. It is true that I am not dying, but then again everyone is dying. We are all dying, as Hazel took care to tell us. But that doesn't mean we're not living.

Wish Tree

On Saturdays there is nothing much to do in Tel Aviv, because it's all closed. So this past Saturday we went to the port of Jaffa.

Jaffa's port is relatively active in terms of boats coming in and out. It also has several restaurants, galleries, and a posh indoor market. And interesting graffiti.

Anyway, there was one gallery, in which there were Instagram pictures by residents of Tel Aviv-Jaffa. Those were actually pretty cool.

In the corner, there was a small tree (or a large bush, I'm not sure). A lot of little notes were pinned to the branches, and according to a nearby sign, it was a wishing tree.

I approached the tree and began reading wishes.

"Love"

"True love"

"One who will really love me"

(I am reminded of this quote by Hank Green: "We are all differently broken, semi-functional, rusted-out love machines.")

"Happiness"

"A good year"

"A good life"

"Health"

"Joy"

As I peered between the branches, I was struck by the similarity. People put down their basest wishes, and thats ultimately the same for humans.

I don't know what I would put down. I wish so many things. Narcissistic things and world things. I wish I were better at doing just about everything. But I guess everyone wishes that. So many wishes - which would I write? Maybe that's why others put down their simplest wishes - it's too hard to decide on the complicated ones.

Finally, I came across a blank note, pinned among the written ones. I don't know whether or not it was a mistake, but there was something so true about it. An unused sheet of white paper is a fresh start - a clean slate, if you will. I think that's what we all want, and possibly what we all need.

After looking at the final wall of pictures, I followed my family outside, under the white sky, blank as a fresh sheet of paper.

It's Okay

About two months ago, I had a dilemma.

I was thinking of applying to BU Academy - a private school full of nerds, basically. It has rigorous academics, fun people, nice art programs, etcetera.

I realize now that it likely would never have happened, but I was still seriously considering it.

I wanted to go there partly because it sounded wonderful and I would be happy there, but more to prove to myself that I could and would be intellectually superior.

The thing about me is this. Nobody ever insulted me or said I was bad at anything I do, be it art or writing or schoolwork. Nobody does, and I don't want them to. But I sometimes think so lowly of myself that it doesn't matter - I do it worse than anybody else, because no one stops me and usually I can't stop myself.

So basically, I got it into my head that I could not be the person I want to be if I did not apply and get into this school, mostly because of the academics. For myself, I always have to be good at what I do, or at least moderately so (in the case of dance). Any bad grade and I will crush myself inside constantly for a few days, then every so often for the following weeks. I will try to do everything I can about it but I will still feel absolutely horrible.

After about two weeks of sheer misery, I decided not to apply to that school. It costs thirty thousand dollars each year, and my parents work in education and music. We could afford it with financial help, but not easily, and I think I would feel so bad about using up so much that I would be even harder on myself. But more importantly, thinking about it so much made me feel horrible and stressed and sometimes sick. It made me feel stupid because many of my classes at my school are easy for me.

It was really hard - harder than I had thought - to let go of that. I still feel inadequate sometimes about myself. But after some weeks, it began to wear off, and I was able to joke about it again. And I'm beginning to realize - it's okay. It's okay to not go to the school where your entire life is grades and work. It's okay to spend a lot of time on things that aren't school-related, things that feed a different part of me - like art and writing and music and reading. It's okay not to overflow your head with work you don't understand. It's okay to be happy with where you are.

Another thing that is hard for me to realize is that yes, I want to know everything. But the time for knowing it all will come eventually. There are things that I am not in the position to know, because others must be learned first. And that's okay.

One Year

Yep.

I realized today that it's been exactly one year since I went to Israel for six months. Which I now classify as one of the hardest, but ultimately one of the best, experiences of my life.

I really do think I changed immensely in Israel. I became aware of the strangeness of my life, the differences between cultures and languages, and the benefits of free time. I also learned enormous amounts about myself and my relationships with other people, and how much things can feel amazing or horrible, and how much things can change with a difference in outlook.

There is a quote from the declamation piece I am doing (it's J. K. Rowling's Harvard commencement speech from 2008) that goes as follows: "You will never truly know yourself, or the strength of your relationships, until both have been tested by adversity." I think that really embodies what I learned: even as I moved away, my friendships remained. As time went on, of course, I forgot a little who they really were, but I came back and we were still friends, for all that each of us had changed. "Such knowledge," JKR continues, "is a true gift, for all that it is painfully won." Yes, it hurt like hell, leaving here. Yes, I suffered enormously at times. Yes, there were times when I was going practically insane. But I learned so much. About myself, about others, about the world. Different places really change how you think and feel. I really believe that, even if I don't seem to have changed so much, I am a different girl than the one who embarked on the most terrifying journey of her life one year ago, in many respects.

I think this change was part of what allowed me to be happy. I could not be fully happy in Israel because I was always missing the other half of me, the one from America. But when I came back I realized I would always miss some part of myself, and I have always lived in want of another place or another time. But the time is now, and I have decided to be happy, because it is good for me. That is another thing I learned in Israel: if you accept what you have, it becomes much better. I was sad and depressed and moping at first there, then I decided to like what I could like and see what would happen. I suddenly became much better friends with several people. I started talking. I started having more fun.

Though I have often been sad and confused about this, and no doubt will be again, I think that it was ultimately one of the best things I've ever done. For myself, for those around me, for my outlook. That's not to say I will do it again, because it was very difficult and I don't think I could. But as long as I live I think I will keep telling this story. Now I just have to find the next one.

Too Much

I have lately come to a realization.

But first, as always - backstory.

Yesterday I got an iPod touch. 64 gigabytes, which now I have no idea what to do with.

I want to go to this summer program. Which costs $7000 or so.

So now is the time when I realize that I cost too much. I feel as though all I do costs something. Every activity in which I engage takes money. And it adds up to too much.

Those People: a Thanksgiving Follow-Up

I can get to be a bit of an emotional wreck. I tend to beat myself up over things for a long time after they've happened, and it can get bad.

But I've realized lately that there are some people who really help me with that and balance me out, so to speak. I've always had someone like that, or a set of someones. Sometimes it was my family, sometimes friends, sometimes others.

Often they're people I don't see as much, and I spend a lot of time imagining hypothetical conversations or situations or what they might be doing at the moment. And when they see them, I feel so happy.

I want to thank those people. They may or may not know how much they've done for me, but I love them all.

They make my universe a better place.

Awesomeness of Life

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I think my life is awesome.

I'm really happy with where I am today, right now. Before Thanksgiving, at high school, maybe not exactly at the perfectly ideal balance between what I like to do, what I need to do, and what is good for me, but pretty close. I have textbooks I can read so I can learn more about our vast universe. I have a speech cutting to do so that I can share the beauty of speaking with the world. I have friends. I have a girlfriend. I love the people I know. I have a vacation coming up. I can do what I like.

And who knows, maybe tomorrow I won't like where I am. But today, I really like it. And really, I'm happy with where I am now, it's just the future that sometimes distorts my view.

I've decided that I will stay in the school I am now, because I like the people and I like the freedom and I like being able to find out random things from other people's textbooks and I like theater and I like speech and I like having not too much ballet and I like being able to read books that aren't assigned to me and I like being able to choose to read old classical literature and I like writing essays of my choice and I like getting the best grades in the class (sorry, that is a bit conceited, but I am arrogant, so oh well). The uncertainty of schools was making me really unhappy, so I have decided, and I am taking the path which will cause me less stress and cause my friends less pain, even if I will not study Latin in school or read endless amounts of ancient Greek literature. I am happy. And I am here.