My Canterbury tale

Just breath, just think about how you actually got into a school, this school isn't too big, no worries you got this. My words of encourage to myself weren't of much help as I entered the gargantuan colosseum of a classroom. I felt like I should have dressed up for the occasion and my grey t-shirt with blue jeans ,that had that one little rip in the knee for memories sake, and converse didn't really do the trick. I pushed my brown long brown hair behind my ear and marveled at the essence of what I got myself into. The "classroom" wouldn't even be classified as a classroom, that's how big it was and as I chose my seat of death I looked around. I saw the groups of people forming right before me as if in a movie. The goths, the populars, the geeks, the drama clubers, and the jocks all divided up the massive colosseum and made it seem smaller somehow. I was so amazed and popped in my headphones to give this delicate moment an epic theme song. People unconsciously walked to the beat and it led me right into the perfect seat, right in the middle, front of the classroom, in the center of all the "cliques." After all, I still wanted to make a good impression and I wouldn't let the reoccurring images of high school hinder that. I looked around and literally grouped everyone into what I saw them as and I didn't bother them with introducing myself. I was eager to start and end; this class was just another chapter in the book.As I looked around the room and back to myself I wondered where everyone was going in life and what they wanted to do. I didn't want to judge anyone but it was hard to silence out the clothes and personalities of everyone around me. That's when I heard the infamous whiteboard screech. "Class this is only going to be about a fifteen minute class. I will give you the assignment and give you the semester to finish it. This is the only class that is granted with the privilege of being a semester class, so please make the best our of it." I felt my eyes widening to the size of softballs and my hands began to slip from each other's grip as my nerves took over. I only had a few months to design an experiment that had "social enrichment". "What does that even mean?!" I whispered under my breath as I slumped out of class. There were no rules or guidelines and all I had was the faint remembrance of what I had done for my senior masterpiece in high school, but I needed something bigger. I immediately regretted coming to college and I questioned what I was doing with my life and where I wanted to go. I didn't even know what this had to do with anything if I wanted to go into medicine other than the fact that it was social. Cry, laugh, blank, excited, done. I saw all the emotions I felt in the different faces of the people around me. I realized that I had no idea what their names were or their favorite color or even why they were taking this class. I had to learn through looking and as if slapped in the face, my motivation hit me. I would travel to the place of peace atop a mountain of silence to "find" my voice; the Monk Temple of Him. But I had no idea what I was getting into or what I would discover.I literally left the next morning. I had nothing to take with me because I wanted nothing to distract me. I talked to my academic advisor and she was against this journey, as were my parents, but I knew I had to go on it. I finally cajoled her into helping me and she substituted this journey for my study abroad one. I would miss out on going to Europe or overseas to study, when I heard this I was a little reluctant to continue. My baggy clothes and messy hair hid the anxiety and fear I felt inside as I took a cab to the nearest airport. "Where are you off to?" the cab driver asked as he quizzically looked at me. "It's for school," I said and I wondered if he really cared where I was going or if he just wanted some extra money from me. Four o'clock and the warm rain drizzles on my head and I trudge into the empty airport. It was strange that there was rain in the middle of september, but I lost my train of thought when I was forcefully shoved by a half-sprinting person. Five foot and still able to knock me over was little miss Sierra Sanchez. I was astounded when I saw her and she came back to apologize and right when she turned around I saw her grinning from ear to ear. "Hey man! I'm really sorry for knocking you over but I am late and I can't miss my flight!" Before I had anything to say she was off again, like the white rabbit late for his date with the queen, and I would later find out her journey was to Europe. I don't know how but I think I was so tired that I slept walk right through the airport and the next thing I knew I was on a plane next to someone going somewhere. I had no idea where I was getting off or when, but it didn't matter because the flight I was on, I soon learned, was a direct flight to Tibet. Before we took off I got up to use the restroom where, to my surprise, I saw a familiar face. "Shailynn Joseph! How are you? What brings you here on this fine plane?"

"Hey, I'm good, thanks for asking. I am just trying to find a flower to cure this girl I am trying to help."

"Oh man, I am so proud of you. That's amazing."

"Thanks Hannah. I hope it all works out and we need to get together sometime and have lunch with Haley, Judith, and Sierra to catch up!"

"Definitely. We will make it happen. Good to see you!" and as she gave me the same goodbye I walked back to my seat. My eyes had bags like the layers of clothes I had on, my hair was a mixture of bed head and dreadlocks, and I was squished in the middle seat. What got me here, why did I choose to do this adventure, I could of just chosen something easy in America. I periodically looked out the window and saw nothing then would turn and look at the people around me and see one listening to music and another reading a book. Again, I was lost in this complex system of not knowing those around me and the whole point of the experiment was to find my voice. My body shifted back from knowing what to do to becoming lost and I was in an endless maze of disturbia until the girl on my left, listening to music, ask me a question I had never heard from a stranger; "Are you ok?" Was I ok? I had no idea. Did she genuinely care? She had to of asked for a reason. Should I tell her my fear? On a split decision I confessed, "I actually don't think I am, thanks for asking." What followed were the events of something I could have never gotten from a classroom discussion, a family dinner, or even a hangout with my friends; it was a pure uncensored discussion that had no amount of blame, guilt, embarrassment, or praise. There was no one topic that developed but a plethora of priceless moments that constituted for a "discussion", whatever that may mean. " I know the fear you are feeling is scary and you think you don't have the strength, but you do. Everyone has the power to dictate their own lives just as I did after my brother took his own life. Listen to this song I think it will help you organize your thoughts." Nicki Minaji's song Anaconda blared through the earphones and I started to cry with laughter. My cheeks hurt instantly and my head flew backwards with no sound coming out from my larynx. "Sorry wrong song, I was jamming before this." Melancholy and content immediately overtook me as I listened to Fix You by Coldplay and all in the same moment this person, who had been a stranger at the beginning of this flight, had made me cry, laugh, and think. At that moment, I felt enlightened. At that moment, I knew what I wanted to do. At that moment, I was going to do something crazy. I practically jumped up and acted on impulse before I actually had time to think about what I was going to do. As I ran to the front of the plane I looked out the passing windows and saw we were above land and my heart started to beat as faster as my legs were running. All in one motion I grabbed the parachute, put in on my back, opened the door, and jumped. Free falling to death is hard to explain. It's similar to tripping while walking to class and there is this sudden heart attack as you feel the wind rip through your face, but thankfully you catch yourself and all is well. This was like that except ten notches higher. The wind distorted my face and I felt the spit and tears slowly rising and detaching themselves to hover over me. Once I composed myself enough to look below me I heard the words of David Foster Wallace's This is Water. This was my water and this is what my life was up to this point. I had been so influenced by a stranger and so encapsulated by a discussion that I hadn't even learned the girl's name. That was the essence and beauty of it all; I didn't need to know her name or the things that defined her from others' perspective all I got were these moments that would develop into something more than a plane conversation. This "lollipop" moment was the purpose of my experiement. I hadn't traveled to the Temple of Him or learned the ways of the monks, but I was skydiving and had found my niche without the treacherous journey. I could start a conversation and learn more from someone without using my eyes than if I did have them and had the ability to judge. Within moments I was in and out of a dream and I soon realized I was approaching ground and I needed to deploy my safety. Despite all the horrible movies of the pull getting stuck, mine did not and I successfully landed on the ground with minor bruises. As I hit the ground it felt like a thousand bricks hitting my body at once and I was dragged and blinded by the parachute until the world stopped spinning. I detached myself, as my tears had in free fall, and I found my way home; I hitch-hiked. My role was reversed, now I was the one on the road and others were scared of me and stared at me as if I was this extraterrestrial being they had never seen. I thankfully got a ride with yet more strangers, but it felt as if I had known them before. They weren't strangers, just others like myself who had ideas and no ways of showing them. I had worn the same clothes for twenty-four hours and my hair and face were the same but my eyes were different. I still never learned the names of those who took me home to San Diego, but it didn't matter. The semester passed and I continued to develop my experiment and conclusion to the assignment and I walked into the class the day of presentations and I looked around and saw faces. Some had freckles, some had widow's peaks, some had beards, some had smiles, and some had blank stares. I sat in the middle yet again, but this time I was there for a reason. "Ok class this is the day. Don't disappoint. Hannah Hurd you're first." I stood up where I sat, looked everyone in the eyes and told my story. "It all started and ended where we began, how ironic..."