Card-stock Catharsis

Today was an emotional rollercoaster with loopidy loops and stomach drops galore. I felt like the universe was playing a game on me, throwing as many curveballs as possible during what is already an extremely (if not the most) stressful time:

I had to go to the bank three times because of my own absent mindedness,

I waited in line at the post office for fifteen minutes twice,

and almost (just for like an hour there..) failed a class.

It seemed too coincidental not to be cosmic and I fell into a small bout of self pity. I texted my sister that I would need a miracle to survive the day but I had no idea what was in store. After a full morning on campus I got to work a couple of minutes late and fell easily into the shift. I had a couple of great customers at the bar and time passed smoothly until we were closing; it was then I realized I had taken my spare set of keys- the set without a key to the cafe. Kefira had to drive to my house and exchange the keys so we could lock up. As a result, we were delayed in closing by 45 minutes. When she picked me up she told me that there had been a blue box on my front doorstep and it was empty. As we got into the car I came to an unnerving realization: my announcements were due to arrive today.. but why would the box be empty....

"Stop trying me!" I yelled out the window up at the sky, much to the surprise of Kefira's boyfriend, Jesse, who was sitting in the passenger seat (He probably thinks I'm crazy). Why would UPS leave the box in front of a door on the main street of town? And who would steal my announcements and furthermore, why on earth would they do that? I had had enough and was up to my ears with frustration. I opened the front door and threw the empty blue box at the foot of the staircase. I turned around just as a group of people were walking by. One of them looked strangely familiar. Ahh, yes. He was one of the those great customers from earlier in the night.
"Do I know you?" he asked
"I was your bartender earlier tonight," I pouted. I mean literally pouted, like a bratty toddler who isn't getting her way. I wanted to close the door and not say anything, I was sad and wanted to be alone and marinate in my sad, scared, self-pity. But I couldn't do that. So I pouted instead.
"Hey hey! You were that really cool bartender we talked to forever!," he responded, stopping near the doorway, "Did your night get any better?"
"No, actually, it didn't. It got worse. Someone stole my graduation announcements. I mean, who does that?" His face at first was empathetic but after a moment, it lit up. Earlier today, as he walked with his friend to the cafe, he had seen a bunch of envelopes floating around in the air just up the block from my apartment. He was heading that way now and would check if it was the announcements.

Dumbfounded but oddly still filled with hope, Kefira and I dropped our bags and headed out with the customer and his two friends. We wandered up the road, checking in the trash cans along the way. The customer leaned into the large white bin, it's liner billowing in the cool December air. He lifted his arm and out came my announcements, neatly bound and perfectly clean. Only a couple of envelopes were attached but that was to be expected; the customer had seen the envelopes dispersed in the air. So, lets go find them! He suggested.

We embarked on a 10 minute long treasure hunt through the streets, following the wind patterns he recalled from his walk earlier. It took us up the avenue, around the facade of a building and into the street. We collected only nine envelopes but the adventure was well worth it.

I was in total disbelief. Here I had thought the forces of the universe were against me when in reality, it was giving me a miracle!! What were the chances that this stranger had walked by at the exact moment whatever weirdo took my announcements realized they were useless and tossed them into the air and trash? And what were the chances that he would walk down the avenue to my place of work and engage in lasting conversation (about New Jersey, oddly enough)? And then, what were the chances he would be walking back up the avenue at the exact moment I was throwing a tantrum in my doorway, forty minutes later than I usually get home from work?

Suddenly the day came rushing back to me: yes, it had been full of trials and tribulations, deterrents and difficulties, but throughout it had been laced with kindness and compassion from strangers and acquaintances alike, miracles had followed nearly every impediment, I was just too pre-occupied with the negatives to notice all of the blessings the universe had presented me with. Although my morning was stressful I had engaged in very substantial, meaningful conversations with both the bankers and folks at the post office. Everywhere I went people wished me luck on finals or congratulated me on my soon-to-be-success. On campus, as per usual, all of my friends were supremely supportive and offered any assistance to aid in the unfortunate situation I found myself in (I seriously do have the best support group ever, hollaaaa squad! You guys ROCK and I would be lost without you!). While I sat outside the office of the professor I believed at the time to be failing me, the head of my department walked passed. Seeing how upset I was, he quickly ushered me into his office where he continued to comfort me and suggest possible solutions.

"Here, go get a coffee. I want a small cappuccino with one sugar and one sweet and low," he said, handing me a ten dollar bill. I insisted on paying but he denied all of my offers and thrust the bill into my hands. There was something calming in walking across campus with an intended goal to accomplish. My tears subsided, though their mark remained on my face, I'm sure. At the coffee shop I ordered my usual: iced coffee with coconut creamer and coconut syrup as well as the cappuccino for my professor. Still dissatisfied with the idea of him paying for my coffee while he helped me figure out my own, self-induced issues, I requested the barista ring the orders up separately. All the while, my best friend was on the phone assuring me everything would be okay. This I considered a miracle in and of itself considering the insanely busy schedules we both try to tackle daily. She was able to take time out of her work day to remind me that there was not much I could do, that stressing over it wouldn't help and that I was doing my best, which was all I could do.
"No matter what," she told me, her angelic voice warming my insides over the phone line, "It's going to be okay. Even if you fail and don't graduate this semester, it is still, no matter what, entirely okay," and while it seemed that it would most certainly not be okay to fail, that my entire planned future would crumble and I would collapse under the weight of my mistakes,  I found comfort in her words. She never lies, I thought, so it must be true, even if it feels otherwise. The young man behind the counter must have overheard the conversation because after he rung me up for my prof's coffee he leaned over the counter with a smile and said, "This one is on me. I hope you're day gets better."

I didn't hear him at first as I was in the process of hanging up with Samantha. What? I asked and he dutifully repeated himself. My coffee was on him, my day would get better, just keep my chin up. His kindness induced more waterworks but this time they were tears of gratitude. Gratitude for the tiny gesture that truly made me feel worlds better. A stranger (okay, well, maybe not a complete stranger.. I do live at that coffee shop.. ) empathized with my situation and was so full of compassion that he bought my coffee for me. A small gesture, of course, but a small gesture with grand consequences. I smiled, thanked him many times and continued back to my professor's office.

The halls of campus are fairly vacant on Fridays and as I walked my footsteps echoed against the emptiness. My professor's voice slowly became audible as I rounded the corner of the Anthropology corridor. I could tell he was on the phone and did not want to impose so I took a seat outside of his office. In all his wisdom, he must have known I was waiting because a moment later I heard him call, "MacKenzie..." through the open door. Walking in, I handed him the cappuccino and his change. I sat down in the chair I have sat in oh so many times before (often in a similar emotional state) and he explained that he had called the professor I believed was failing me and she had assured him she was going to accept my assignment, she just wanted to ensure I submitted it correctly. And with that, he rushed me off to the library to get it handed in. The kind, older man who shaped my entire experience in the Anthropology program, who had aided me during so many difficult times, encouraged me to excel in the field, and never, ever gave up on me (even when I was avoiding him and he very well should have given up on me) had once again saved the day. What could I ever do to repay him? Well.. I could probably start by actually graduating.

Astonished at all I had taken for granted throughout the day, embarrassed of myself for focusing so much on the negative and altogether amazed at the real miracles I had experienced, I thanked the stranger and his friends for their help in all the ways I could think of. Kefira and I climbed the stairs to my apartment and continued to do more school work. Before I got caught up in my academic endeavors, I took the announcements from the blue box they belonged in, unwrapped the package and took a good look at the piece of paper before me. It was perfect in every way: the photos were impeccable had been taken a week prior by two good friends. We had a hilarious yet very successful afternoon shooting and I was so pleased with the outcome. As I examined the document before me I was filled with memories and chuckled to myself about the ridiculous situations we put ourselves in and the even more ridiculous photos that ensued. (Semi-important side note: the friends had agreed to taking photos in part because I offered them a place to stay over the holiday. I guess it's true what they say about getting back what you put out.. sometimes..) I fell deeper into reflection, considering, truly, for the first time just how monumental this stage of my life was. Graduating college is a rite of passage, a coming-of-age if you will, where young people living half in reality and half in a dream world of parties and papers and peterpanness emerge as adults, ready (hopefully ready) to become autonomous, functioning members of society.

Was I ready for that? Ready to be a grown up, ready to have a big-girl job with benefits and paid vacation? To finally release my father of the financial burdens he so stoically bestowed upon himself during the extended years of my education and take those responsibilities on myself? Really, was I ready to stop excusing my economic disadvantage with the fact that I was a student? To re-assess and recreate my identity, this time as something entirely my own, not predetermined by societal norms? It seemed so scary for a moment, far scarier than failing a single class. Over the last few years campus had truly become home: the people in my department, students and faculty alike, were my family. We had been through some of the greatest challenges of our lives together, suffered through finals in the library every semester by each others' sides, supported each other in times of personal strife and partied our asses off when the time was appropriate. Our brains blossomed as we were presented with questions and issues previously never thought of or considered and through our navigation of these questions and their possible answers we discovered who we were and what we stood for and (most importantly) we discovered why. 

As my mind wandered and I thought of all the reasons I was scared to graduate I realized that those same reasons validated just how ready I am. The community I had been part of taught me the responsibility necessary to be a valued member of the community at large. My anthropology (and ISS) family raised me to be understanding, empathetic, analytical and brave. My mentors had challenged me and inspired me to take action against all that I thought to be unjust. The support and assistance of family and friends outside of the university setting aided me in understanding the importance of kin and furthermore, encouraged me to take more of an active role in those relations. Over the course of my college experience I acquired a voice far louder, with the capability of far more influence, than I had ever had before (and I am a loud-ass person!). Through my education I had learned reason, logic, the importance of backing up my argument with credible sources. I had learned the difference between facts, beliefs and ideologies which enabled me to navigate my way through understanding the complex web of interactions we call the world. I found passion, purpose, I found pride. Consequently, I had been humbled and sometimes horrified at the reality of it all. But through all of this, the ups and downs, the times in-between semesters when I found myself on the opposite side of the world without a place to lay my head at night or keep my belongings and those times I found myself on campus for 15 hours a day, five days in a row, I had found myself. Many times over I had been shown by others just who I could be and many times more I had found myself questioning and considering, until ultimately I found a solid place to stand. Of course, I will continue to question, consider, change, and grow after college. But for now, I have been infinitely blessed by the universe and its' myriad miracles. For now, thanks to all of the people I have encountered and interacted with, learned from and in turn, impacted, thanks to the miserable weeks of studying and note-taking and paper-writing, contemplating and crying, I have found myself, learned to truly love myself as well as to love others, and most of all, I am ready as ever to take on the world.

Earlier in the morning, in the midst of my manic insanity and forgetfulness, my self-pity and negativity, I had told my sister I would need a miracle to get through the day. Little did I know I had already been blessed with endless miracles and would be blessed with many more.

On that note, I'd like to end with a quote from St. Augustine of Hippo (the irony is killing me here Florida) that is directly connected to the class I thought I had failed yesterday as well as many other aspects of not only my, but all of our lives:

"Miracles are not contrary to nature but only contrary to what we know about nature."

It's only when we let go of what we think we know (about ourselves, the outside world, even what is happening to us at a particular time) that we're able to truly understand.