S.O.O.

I was thinking of something today. Okay. So, I feel like everyone has a place, or a time, or an activity, or something-or-other where their soul finds peace. A something-or-other where it finally seems like everything is going to be okay. And then I thought to myself, "You know, Hannah, I bet consciously acknowledging those something-or-others is a really good way to find happiness." And you know what? I agree with myself. So, here I go.

My Something-Or-Others

1. Dancing: Okay, so this is typical. Any dancer would say this. But there's just some indescribable feeling that goes along to moving your body to a piece of music and knowing that other people are entertained by it. It's also cool to know that it used to be a huge medium for storytelling. Tap dancing really gives me that feeling more than any other style of dance, because I don't feel self-conscious when I tap. Honestly, when I dance, I completely forget about my real life. About all the problems and all the worries (unless it's a lyrical piece . . . in that case, I like to draw from my experiences to get true emotion on stage).
2. Writing: Writing gives me basically the opposite feeling as dancing does. Oftentimes, writing is a very painful and difficult process for me. Digging up everything that I pretend isn't there, the words that flow from my fingertips force me to deal with the crap I avoid. Poetry, in particular, really helps me deal with memories that are still raw. So, while writing is actually the time my soul feels the heaviest, it's also the time my soul feels the freest. Many people say that there is peace in ignorance, but I think that knowing is peaceful, because it forces you to find a solution. Or at least to stop pretending.
3. Sleeping: I'm not sure that this one needs an explanation, but the future usually seems to become less scary after a good nap.
4. Walking: I really like taking walks. And through making this list, I've realized that I don't take enough of them. Night walks are great, because the air just tastes so fresh and the stars just seem so bright, but I'm actually kinda scared of the dark. Maybe, if I could just wake earlier, I could take pretty morning walks. They're so soothing. (Running, on the other hand, is my bane.)
5. The minutes after a long cough attack: While hacking my lungs out with a reddened face isn't the most comfortable thing in the world, my lungs always feel sooooo good after I've spent a good ten minutes punishing them with giant coughs. Unlike in my usual state, this something-or-other allows me to take HUGE breaths without stabbing pain or a tickling throat.
6. The movie theater: If it wasn't so darn expensive, I would go more often! I like how all responsibility seems to fade away when you're watching a movie in the theater. It's like you're telling the world, "For the next 150 minutes, I am completely unreachable!" And, c'mon, with a giant bucket of warm, buttery popcorn on your lap, it's like the spa for your soul.
7. After finishing a huge assignment: Much like my cough attacks, this isn't enjoyable during the process. Only after. I love that "Ahhhh!" feeling. Maybe I should use that as motivation to further push myself.

These aren't all of my something-or-others, but I think it's a good start. Hopefully, now that I've recognized where my soul feels happy, I'll be able to enjoy these states more and spend more time smiling.

College Essay #13890429384

You found the secret message! Hi.

Our school play was so boring, I was about ready to claw my eyes out.

After ninety minutes of misread lines and overly dramatic underclassmen, the spring production of Bullshot Crummond was proving to be almost unbearable to sit through. It’s not that I didn’t love my friends whom I was there to support--of course I did! That being said, I didn’t argue when the lights came on for intermission. 

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I tapped the screen to check Facebook, as any teenager would. I scrolled past statuses expressing anxiety for tomorrow’s chemistry test (which I probably should’ve been studying for) and gushing about newly found soulmates. Nothing new, nothing new. Scroll. Scroll.
“They say you are never given something you can’t handle . . . but losing your best frien--”

Wait . . .

I’ve never been more frustrated with shoddy wi-fi than I was at that moment. 

Sprinting from my seat in the loud auditorium to the double doors of the main entrance, I waited outside for the rest of the post to load. My heart felt as if it was melting onto my ribs. Tears fell to my screen, but I didn’t wipe them off. Maybe they would cover up what I didn’t want to face--erase it. After what was quite definitely the longest three minutes of my life, I was able to read through the post in its entirety. My knees gave out. My phone fell to the concrete.

Alex was dead.

I met Alexandria at Bronson Methodist Children’s Hospital on a rainy day in 2011. I had been admitted to the pediatric floor a week into her “tune-up,” and since we were both cystic fibrosis patients with tired lungs, we ended up resting them in adjacent rooms. 

Because we’re only contagious to each other, two people with CF shouldn’t ever be in the same room. In the hospital, they take that rule very seriously, and growing up as one of only two people in my county with the disease, I had no one to confide in. I constantly felt isolated by an invisible illness, and no one seemed to understand--but all of that changed the day my nurse’s gloved fingers slipped a green index card into my palm.

Ten digits followed by a bubbly “Text me!” unlocked the most substantial friendship I’d ever come to know. We clicked instantly. Despite the fact that Alex’s cystic fibrosis was significantly more advanced than my own, we were able to offer each other identical support. We shared an oddly high number of interests (US Women’s gymnastics, writing, Coldplay, etc.), only enhancing our obvious medical connection. Soon, we weren’t just “cysters”--we were sisters.

Alex was the kind of girl who would go above and beyond expectations. She made YouTube videos about her struggle to breathe, each reminding you to live your life for every moment--to savor every breath. The pageviews on her blog exploded exponentially, and they still climb every day, topping 18,000 total. Even after her passing, Alex continues to inspire others.

If Alex had been born with healthy lungs, she still would’ve found a way to leave her mark, believing that it isn’t a person’s situation that defines them, but rather what they do in spite of it. My life is a bit emptier without my best friend, but it’s ten times fuller than it ever was before her. I will always miss her phone calls, birthday packages, and mixed CD’s, but much like her loopy surgery videos, Alex’s words will live on: “I have cystic fibrosis, but it doesn’t--and never will--have me.”