People never get the flowers while they can still smell 'em

I'm writing this down before I forget or lose the feeling to sleep or the slice of cake or two glasses of half a bottle of champagne I consumed during the night. I turned 26 about 11 hours ago, and thus far, the day has proceeded better than many birthdays I can think of. A lot of I-me-my-mines were uttered on those other birthdays. A lot of self-absorption, rather than self-reflection, took place. Now, of all days that one can be self-conscious or conceited, I suppose the birthday is the most appropriate. But, this morning, a feeling was put on my spirit to say "Thank you" not reactively for birthday wishes I received, but preemptively, because of the year I've had. The years* I've had, until now, have contained disappointment, anxiety, confusion, curiosity, wonder, pain, joy, happiness, love, romance, and heartbreak. As I mentioned to a friend on the phone this afternoon, I usually took my birthday as the day to reflect on all that I've been through, but I would get stuck on where I should be or why I wasn't feeling satisfied.

This birthday was different. The experiences in my 26 years remain the same, but I looked at them through a new lens this time. I experienced today, and lately have been experiencing days, that felt...in their proper place. Today, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be, felt like I was learning and growing and meeting and absorbing all the experiences I was supposed to, and the people I was meant to meet...it all felt like, on this birthday, I finally had "arrived." No, I haven't made it to the pinnacle of success or to the peak of my career or social life. I'd arrived, in my spirit, in my heart, in a place of acceptance, and peace and ease. I accepted what happened and what I received with reckless abandon, and without regard for how big or shiny or meaningful or long or short or clever it was. I hosted a game night and invited my classmates (at this point, still acquaintances/new friends/budding relationships) and they showed up and I was genuinely moved and appreciative that people took time out of their day to come celebrate me. But it wasn't about me, it was about what we were building and how everyone felt being a part of that experience. I was honored to be a part of it, not to be the cause for it.

I'm having lots of feelings, thoughts and reflections on this birthday. It's usually a time of deep thought and taking account of where I am and where I need to get to next. But, this year felt different. I'm quite content with living in the moment, each moment, and being grateful for all the confusing or heartbreaking or joyful or unexpected moments that culminated on this second...and this one. It all adds up to 26 years of friends, family and even new classmates who are still getting to know me taking time out of their lives and studying to come to game night. I'm in a good place right now- grateful for the blessings and the sorrows I've experienced. God's timing and execution of His plan don't always line up with the timing you want. I know they haven't for me. But, it took accepting his divine knowledge rather than fighting it to reach this place of peace. I've prayed for it a long time, but I didn't realize that prayer had been answered until today when my friend Arthur asked me if I made any birthday resolutions. I didn't have any because the ones I made last year have already manifested. I've let go of the anxiety, trying to direct every next step. I'm working on praying more and exercising (probably lifelong goals, right?)

So, I'm here, without fear, get used to it. Thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday, who showed up to my party/game night. Thank you for cooking me breakfast (AGIII) bringing me cake (Lizzie) and wine and champagne (everyone) and buying me dinner (M. Greezy and Guild) and baking me cookies (Melissa/Katie S.). Thanks to everyone for the instagrams and Facebooks. I'm sure it's really millennial of me to say this, but I acknowledge there are people out there who don't have someone to post a picture of them on their birthday. Or even if they do, some folks don't have or take the time to do so. I thank God for each and every one of you who did that, or who hugged me or thought of me today or any day. I hope I've made you feel special or will make you feel special sometime in the year. It seems like birthdays are about taking account of not only how old you've gotten and what you've experienced, but counting each person who's influenced you and guided you on your way to that place. 26 is going to be a year of prayer, focus, tenacity and teamwork. If today's any indication of what my year 27 reflection will look like, we're gonna need some more champagne.

Being Joyful

This morning as I got ready for church, I turned on Super Soul Sunday as background noise. I watched parts of the interview as I made oatmeal and picked out a dress. Part of the episode featured a cancer survivor, now well-past the ten-year time limit her doctors spoke on her life when she was diagnosed with "cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer"  all throughout her liver. She said she often thinks back on how many days she wasted awaiting joy. "When I get better..." or "when my cancer goes away,..." she thought, "then I'll have joy."

This sentiment of finding joy in the moment, not waiting for happenings to be happy, is one that was echoed in the sermon a few hours later. As I sat next to a new classmate, I listened to the scripture read that asks us to think about where we were when we were saved. As we often call out in church, I'm not where I'm going to be, but thank God I'm not where I used to be. I feel this sentiment not only about the mistakes I've made, or the words and arrows I've shot that I wish I could take back. I also think about the sense of peace and acceptance I've reached, knowing I came a long way from the frenetic, anxious, unconfident teenager and college student I was only a few short years ago.

I started medical school last week. Though my first day of medical school class was something I thought i'd have experienced at age 21, something I wished for endlessly, as I jotted down "26th birthday!" on my calendar this morning before I left for church, I realized that it's at this age, at this level of maturity that God knew I'd be able to handle that first day of class and the 4 years of classes ahead of me. I have a sense of peace that I am exactly where I'm meant to be, because I am living with joy, rather than waiting for happiness. This is something I struggled with only a few years ago, because I kept waiting on what I wanted to happen, to happen. "When I get into UNC...", "when I start medical school..." i thought, "then i'll have joy."

But joy comes in the morning, does it not? Usuaully right after your darkest hour when you're forced to either fold, or have faith. Joy comes when you get yet another rejection letter, but you somehow find the willingness to re-apply. Joy comes when you're supplied with every tool and all the time you needed to study for the MCAT, even though that means moving home and being unemployed to do so. Joy is being willing to accept that you can ask for what you want, and then be faithful that God will provide what you need. I admit I was frustrated and angry that I had rejoiced in the Lord and he did not give me the desires of my heart. But, my problem was that I had done my rejoicing all wrong. I had expected it to be an even exchange, and rather than finding joy, I was seeking a specific blessing. We can know where we want to go, but the Lord has to direct our steps to get there. Being comfortable walking blindly in the path he lays out for us, and accepting that you will be placed where you need to be, that's joy.

I won't be foolish enough to think that I won't face more moments of living outside of my joy. I won't say that I will always be this confident in my abilities to succeed here, that I won't wish school were easier or that I won't wonder how I'll make it through. However, I will try my best to at least remember that I am where I am supposed to be. In those moments of doubt, I will remind myself that, I got not only what I asked for but what is best for me, because it was given to me on God's time and for a purpose greater than graduation. My purpose here is to live out the calling on my life- a medical degree is a means to an end. That end is to glorify God.

The countdown's almost over, and I didn't record a single thing.

This is both a love letter to my new favorite band (even though, I don't think I had an old favorite) and also a letter to myself about ten years from now.  This is the letter that Celeste A. _____, MD (not that I'm hoping for a new last name but, anything could happen) will need to read after performing her umpteenth baby delivery or physical exam or appendectomy. When she's feeling consumed by the pagers and pages of that essay she owes the New Yorker which won't write themselves. 

There was a point in time, not too long ago, mind you, that the lyrics with which your younger self could most closely relate were "after 25 years I should be good at something/gone are the days of me being so innocent." The words were sung by Rachael Price, lead singer of your then-favorite band, Lake Street Dive. You ranked the album those lyrics came from, Bad Self Portraits, as number three of your instant classics. Ranked only behind The College Dropout and Section 80, Bad Self Portraits was the soundtrack to your final six months before starting medical school. You didn't feel quite like you were an expert at anything by age 25, but I think you were pretty good at living in the moment and trying to find the lesson in those moments, instead of lamenting. That's good at something. Don't lose that. Or, if you've lost it, remember you had it once. 

When you're feeling like you can't figure out the latest problem life's thrown at you, Celeste _____, MD, remember you spent a year and a half without a microwave. When you're feeling monotonous, remember you learned to cook and enjoy shrimp. When you're craving romance, remember you went on dates with nice guys and gentlemen, and when you're feeling impatient remember you also went on a date with a guy who thought a fun Saturday morning date meant having you run a mile while strapped to a tractor tire. All of these things and more were things you experienced living in Washington, DC. In 18 short months, you went from a four-time MCAT taker and wet-behind-the-ears employee to a confident Metrobus rider and published writer. You didn't wait for some magazine or Instagram likes or  award ceremony to feel validated in your lived life. You jumped into experiences feet first, so you could stand self-assured and be self-supportive. 

You got into the school of your dreams. You, whom life usually surprises and brings unexpected turns, you prayed and prayed for something and three years later, God saw fit to place you at the very same school you prayed to go to. So don't ever think that you know best; just remember that if you pray hard enough and fail (and try again) enough at something, you might get exactly what you want, but only after God teaches you what you'll need to excel there.

If you haven't yet reached your dreams, Celeste _____, MD, if you haven't yet started your nonprofit or become a contributing writer for a major magazine like Atul Gawande, or if you are having issues with family or you hate your haircut or life feels THIS BIG and you're just lost in it, remember that you wrote this on a bus. You wrote this on a flash-flood-warning-rainstorming Friday while riding on the L2. You were late-ish to work. But, you were on your way. And you still are. 

wan·der·lust [won-der-luhst] (noun.) a strong, innate desire to rove or travel about.

Summer of Wander 

1. Visit Eastern Market outdoor shopping on a Sunday
2. Watch a movie outside (Screen on the Green)
3. Eat at 2 Amys Pizza
4. Row on the Potomac
5. Iwo Jima Memorial Tour
6. Eat a Manouch hotdog
7. Visit Ford's Theatre and the house where Lincoln died
8. Nationals Game
9. Take a tour at the Mansion on O Street
10. Visit a winery
11. Visit a brewery
12. Drag Queen brunch at Perry's
13. Visit Phillips Gallery
14. DC United Game
15. Eat at Standard Restaurant 
16. Eat a half-smoke all the way from Ben's Chili Bowl
17. Supreme Court tour
18. Visit the Newseum
19. Library of Congress tour
20. Watch the DC Rollergirls play
21. Visit all the Smithsonian Museums
22. Dinner at an embassy
23. Eat at Johnny's Half Shell
24. Visit the Big Chair in Anacostia and the Big Chair in Georgetown
25. Visit Frederick Douglass National Historic Site
26. Church at Rankin Chapel
27. Seersucker Bike Ride Social or Tweed Ride
28. Old Post Office tour
29. Eat at Dangerously Delicious Pies
30. Attend an event at Howard Theater
31. Attend a concert at 9:30 Club
32. Drinks at Black Cat
33. Eat at Granville Moore's

Follow through.

            My dad taught me how to play tennis. This isn’t a noteworthy feat in and of itself, because a lot of dads teach their daughters lots of things, and lots of daughters have dads for tennis coaches. For us, it’s significant. My dad has been an athlete his entire life. He’s such an athlete, and more importantly, so committed to excellence, that he taught himself how to play tennis, too. He plays against (and beats) folks who have been playing their entire lives, possibly peoples whose dads taught them to play. This is a testament to and snapshot of my dad’s character…and, being so committed to excellence, whatever you’re thinking about the kind of coach he might be, assume you’re right. Still, even when my game was a little faulty, and I didn’t practice as much as he told me to, my dad treated me to new tennis shoes, apparel, and even gave me one of his racquets to call my own.

            I was able to play tennis with my dad because I moved back home this September, some post-graduate plans having fallen through and others not yet coming to fruition. After a few weeks of moping, feeling sorry for myself and trying to figure out if I had done something wrong to end up in south Florida, I finally joined my dad on the tennis court. It occupied my time productively, got me in shape and gave me a chance to join my dad while doing something he loves.

There are a few phrases my dad stresses and repeats throughout every tennis lesson. Stay in the shot. Follow through. Watch the ball. Control, not power. These reminders apply to forehand and backhand shots, building a consistent volley game, and not wasting valuable energy during a match. Some drills were mundane, and when I tried to emulate tennis pros by taking shortcuts, my dad reminded me tricks could not substitute for real skill.

There were many days when, both on and off the tennis court, I wondered how any of these lessons mattered. How did I end up here? I felt like I got off the highway at a wrong exit, and was wandering around with no end in sight. Sure I enjoyed tennis, and spending time with my family, but mounting doubt and debt still weighed heavily on my mind.

 In moments like that, I’m glad I had friends and this church family to remind me, God said he will make a way in the wilderness. Rough ground becomes level and rugged places become a plain. God was sending me through what felt like wilderness, to deliver me to a promised land. Every swing and a miss, every out of bounds return was preparation for the day when I could finally return and beat my dad on one of his serves. The lessons he taught me all came together. Shoulder over the knee, racquet back early, full turn through the swing and a crosscourt shot will land well in bounds and out of the opponent’s reach. So every cover letter, every un-returned follow up email, every interview finally came through with a job offer in Washington, DC. The money I’ll be making, the opportunities I’ll have to build my network and further myself in my career- they’re blessings I don’t deserve. I know better than to declare victory for myself. I didn’t do any of it. The winning shots I returned to my dad would have been impossible had he not repeated those lessons to me over and over. So I knew better than to say me receiving this offer to start my career was just me, being all good- it’s all God.  

Starting next Monday, I won’t get to play tennis in the mornings with my dad anymore. Just as soon as I started to show consistent improvement with my game, all those plans I had set in motion started moving at full speed, and tennis with my dad will now have to take place on visits home from Washington, DC. As I reconsider the past few months- which at the time felt like an eternity- I realize my dad taught me about how to proceed through these new transitions. I also realize that the unconditional love and guidance I received from my father on earth, is multiplied infinitely by the love and favor provided to me by my father in heaven. I had been praying for a clear direction, a clear path toward my next step in life. In his image, God created a man who could show me that, just like on the tennis court, reaching the next level of success takes follow through. It takes staying in earshot of God’s voice, through prayer; attacking my goals without worrying about when or if they’ll come true, and allowing my hand and my life to be controlled by His power, not my own.

            My father in heaven, like my father on earth, does not make learning these lessons easy. You can’t learn how to play tennis by watching. You learn by doing, and by practicing every day, especially when you don’t feel like it.

My dad taught me how to play tennis. My dad taught me how to have faith. 

9 Things I'm Looking Forward to at N.S.L.C.

What was your "best ever?"  Many of us can reflect on a memorable family vacation where, for once, everyone got along and no one came down with a cold or food poisoning...or, maybe it's a road trip with your best friends, when the driver never got lost, the passenger-seat-DJ always chose the right track, and even the unexpected hiccups worked out in your favor. For me, the best ever was the Best Summer Ever in 2010, when I first worked at the National Student Leadership Conference at the University of Maryland. That June, I came full circle with NSLC, because in 2004 I was a student in the very same Medicine and Healthcare program, back when Chuck Taylors and layered tanks were my wardrobe of choice.

Before the Best Summer Ever started, I couldn't imagine I would bond so well with my fellow staff members who, weeks before, were complete strangers. Our life experiences were so different- some agnostics; some biology majors; one a fan of techno, and another a vegetarian. But, we ate ribs, prayed, laughed, and danced in harmony for three months. We laughed and talked in that way because we knew we existed in a space of our own...no naysayer or FBI-issued wire tap could breach the realm of security and acceptance we shared. No one else who wasn't a part of us could understand how so many different I's formed such a supportive team. Thrown into the trenches, facing nearly 1000 high school students over the course of 12 weeks, we survived together what no man or woman could handle on their own...it was the epitome of a "you had to be there" experience, and thank God, I was.

Here we are, two years later. I know I'm a lot different than I was back then, so who knows how different each of this year's staff will be from each other? Many would worry at a moment like this, wishing they would be arriving in a time machine and going back to Summer 2010. But I have to say, I'm looking forward to a brand new, and completely unique summer. I know nothing will ever be like Summer 2010. And, I don't want it to be. The problem with having the "best ever" of something is that try as you might to recreate it, in reality, perfection can't be planned. That awesome road trip won't turn out the same as the first time, because there will undoubtedbly be a new detour on your route.  I know that NSLC makes people change. We grow, whether we want to or not. This program is more about building relationships than any workshop or leadership training, because if it wasn't, none of the staff would return summer after summer, hoping to get a taste of the best ever. But, I'm back, and though I know there will be moments I can't anticipate, I know at NSLC I can count on having a good time. I'm looking forward to new memories, new friends, and the nine things listed below. It won't be the Best Ever, but Summer 2012 is definitely going to be perfect and memorable in its own way. And, that's the best way it could be.

1. Hugs. I'm a really affectionate person, but I know people get a little nervous sometimes when you hug too long, and so I became a butt-out hugger. You know...when you embrace someone with your arms, but the rest of your body is playing hide and go seek with the other person's pelvis. Not this summer. As emotions and what not abound, I'm hugging everyone like this:



2. "New" Music. I don't have a car radio (or a car for that matter,) and anyone who knows anything knows that driving around is usually my favorite way to listen to music. I try to stay updated with Spotify, Twitter, and blogs, but oftentimes the radio hits that everyone else feels are played out and overrated are brand new to me. I hope to be singing along to some Ke$ha and Bieber by summer's end.

3. Making it clear. Nothing puts your life in perspective than having to explain life to a 14-year old. I hope the conversations I have with my students as someone older and wiser (who, me?) will help me to realize what's important. At that age, they just want to know that one day they can achieve what they've always dreamed of, and I want to be an example of a "grown-up" who didn't sell out and is still going after her dreams.

4. Getting in shape. Ugh...I'm only writing this down so you guys can hold me accountable. In my head, I envision a peaceful morning run through campus, followed by a healthy breakfast and a shower, before I meet up with my students. I'm not sure how many 7:00AM field trips it will take to persuade me that this is probably a bad idea.

5. Icebreakers. I'm not ashamed to say this, but I love team-building activities. They really do help to break that fourth wall and skip the whole "so, what's your major?" nonsense and other typical conversation starters. Add in a little competition, and I'm the happiest girl in the world.

6. Forgetting I'm supposed to worry about... well, a lot of things. We'll be so busy worrying about our kids and making sure the program goes off without a hitch, that I can stop fretting over callbacks and future plans and let God do his thing without me badgering him everyday. Everything happens in its due time, so in the mean time, in between time, I'll work my thing, and it'll be fine.

7. Free Food. Add this to the explanation in number 4 as reasons why my goal to work out and get in shape will probably be for naught.

8. Inside jokes. Let's let fun happen. I'm still Facebooking my Summer '10 students about pastries in my cup. I want a summer full of mouth-open-but-no-sound-coming-out, eyes closed, belly-aching laughter.

9. Wearing a uniform. I spend far too much time in the morning picking out what I'm going to wear, then changing it three times. I love that this part of my day will be taken care of for me, and that I won't be wearing my after-school clothes as often, meaning less wear and tear on those bad boys and most importantly- less laundry.

"This summer, I ain't finna say, 'Next summer, I'm finna...'"

It's been a minute, but I'm right back in it. For those of you who know me well, you know about The List. This list is not your typical to-do or grocery list. Nay, The List is all about having fun. Actually, let me rephrase that. The pseudo-bucket list I keep on my cellphone (R.I.P. to the list I lost when I got a new Blackberry over spring break), includes every restaurant I want to try, books I want to read, songs to download and places I'd like to visit. Problem is, I spend so much time tackling the non-listed mandatory to do's that I don't often get around to The List. But, that's about to change, people. Summer's here, and if I've learned anything since college, I learned that you have to seize the do-nothing moments, and do something. I've embraced my sense of adventure over the past few years, and I don't want to lose momentum now. I've felt a little anxiety lately fending off the barrage of "what's next?!" questions, (which I suppose people think is a welcome topic for a 23-year old grad school graduate with no job prospects? please, stop.), and I need a way to refocus my energy on something positive...something memorable. I'll admit it. I love a challenge as much as I love chicken wings. But, this list isn't about stressing myself out over meaningless challenges just to prove my willpower to myself. Like that one summer I forbid myself from eating fast food and the place I was staying in didn't have a kitchen. Genius. Nope, this list means it's time to get up, get out, and do something I enjoy.

The List: Summer 2012 Edition*

1. Speak Spanish/learn a new Spanish word every day

2. Carry a water bottle.

3. Eat salad every day...any toppings allowed including bacon.

4. Read at least 3 fiction books that have nothing to do with medicine or history.

5. Try 3 new drinks and 3 new beers.

6. Try eggs Benedict.

7. Have a frittata.

8. Swim! Preferably with my head under water, but at least be in the pool, arms windmilling.

9. Blog often...mostly about my experiences experiencing The List.

10. Eat lots of fruit.

11. Wear bright colors.

I'm sure I'll think of some more things, but for now, these are my summer must-do's. What's on your summer manifesto?

*(Inspired by the good folks at Lifehacker.)

UPDATE:
12. Be "on the blogs" to stay current with new music.