Happy New Year!
Well, so much for keeping up steady posting during school.
I'll say this, I can't really blame myself. One of my classmates said it best on the morning of our last final when he said, "This semester...felt like it was a year long." And it certainly did. Since my last post, we flew at the speed of light through an array of somewhat interrelated subjects through the insanity that was Fundamentals I and II. Learned skills of how to deal with difficult patients suffering from physical as well as emotional pain in Clinical Practice of Medicine. Felt like doctors as we fulfilled our assignments of talking to patients in the real world with our preceptors ensuring our progress. And of course, the dreaded yet amazing tour de force that was anatomy. But we made it through, and without too much damage. Over a quick hurdle of biostatistics that our exhausted minds only barely absorbed, and then into the sweet freedom of winter break to renew our mental strength and capacity for next semester.
But as exhausting as the semester was - reducing some of us to tears, some to fits of fried laughter, and some to numbness - I and most of my classmates would not have had it any other way. We were exactly where we wanted to be. And it's worth the craziness.
But that's not what I'm writing about today. I find myself thinking about how, in addition to rejuvenating my brain, this winter break has been a major time of renewal for me.
I renewed my connections with my extended family over Christmas weekend. I have a big extended family - 29 first cousins! (I'll pause a moment while you gasp.) I absolutely love it. Since they range from ages 5 to 30-something, I relate to some of them better than others, but it's always a happy moment when I can see any of them, usually because a significant amount of time passes between such occasions. It's great to catch up with them. I have older cousins who have forged a path into the medical field (we're Indian, big surprise) who now tell me war stories of their time in medical school, and give me advice on where to go from here. I also have younger cousins who look to me for guidance - at least, they would if I saw them more, to my regret. But more than that, we just have a good time in each other's company - watching movies, trading stories, talking about how silly or wise our parents are, and (in my family's case) playing the couch game (I'll explain later). Being with them is always awesome, and one of my goals for the future is to see them more, or at least keep in touch better.
I also renewed my connection with the house in which I grew up. We just had all of our hardwood floors redone, and there are few things that make you see a room more differently than taking all the furniture (and everything associated with that furniture) out of it. "Were those walls always pink?" "Where did this rug come from?" "Oh, that's where I lost that shirt!"
And then I reconnected with Richard Marx. Not in person, I've never met the guy, though I'd like to some day. I know what you're thinking now - "Who's Richard Marx?" Check out his songwriting and production discography and you're bound to recognize one-third to one-half of the names. Richard Marx's self-titled album was the first music I ever owned - my father handed the audio cassette to me, I slapped it into my Walkman, and that was that. My cousins will tell you how I used to listen to that tape almost obsessively, and in retrospect I was pretty ridiculous. But I just found something relevant in his music, something spoke to me. In addition to writing songs for other artists, he's put out several albums of his own over the last 23 years, and just recently released "Stories to Tell," a compilation album with acoustic and electric re-recordings of songs he wrote for himself and for others. And on top of that, he actually replied to one of my Tweets! I reacted quite calmly on Twitter, simply re-Tweeting it, but I was definitely doing a little dance when I saw it.
And finally...I know most avid readers like myself use their downtime to get into amazing new series like "The Hunger Games" or great biographies or instant classics or the next Tom Clancy or John Grisham book. Me? I chose to use this time to reconnect with The Animorphs. Mostly due to the fact that my friend Juliana keeps insisting that I should finish them, and I like the satisfaction of finishing a series. So I picked up where I left off at book 19 and am continuing all the way through #54.
All of these renewals had something in common: there was some level of change involved in my experience. Many of my cousins, the ones who watched over me and influenced me in my childhood, have children of their own now, all in the age range of 1-7. The last time I was in that full of a house for Christmas, surrounded by running children...I was one of the running children. I love kids, I always have. And it's interesting to see the other side of these interactions - to be the one watching over them as they have adventures by the couches, the monster that they need to fight, or the airplane to help them fly into the next room. It's no preparation for actually raising children, but it does make me look forward to the idea...but not for a while.
Meanwhile, inside the house, our living room, dining room, my parents' bedroom, and all the kids rooms look radically different. Partially because with Robin now being the principle child of the house and me only visiting on major holidays, my parents moved her into my old room and me into her smaller one. That's different. But just the feel of the rooms is different now. They're cleaner, for sure, but the shiner floors and some new furniture bring a new essence to them. It's unfamiliar, but it's like a rebirth. Like I'm exploring the rooms for the first time, in a new leather cockpit and new shiny wood and glass control panels and a much cleaner interior. Though, for those of you that have seen my living room before...the giant picture of Jesus is still in the same place. :)
Richard Marx's latest album has a disc of reworked versions of his classic hits, as well as recordings of some of the songs he's written for other artists. I was always Backstreet Boys over N*Sync, but I really enjoy Marx's versions of "This I Promise You." Marx spent most of the '90s in the Adult Contemporary section, but he's brought out more of his modern rock side in the 2000s, returning to his roots but adapting to the times. And I love artists that do that. (Side note on comebacks and adapations: While I agree that Madonna could make a very successful comeback, who thought it was a good idea to have her do the Super Bowl halftime show? I don't wish unemployment on anyone, but I kinda hope that person was fired.)
And the Animorphs? Well, in middle school - the last time I picked these books up - they were just entertaining books. But now, in my 20s, I see much more in the books. I mean, I hate eisegesis as much as the next guy, so I'll try to avoid that. But in addition to seeing how much K.A. Applegate influenced my own writing, I was astonished to see the depth in the stories. The middle school kid heroes of the series have aged greatly in the course of 30 books. Applegate has effectively captured the battle-ravaged minds of warriors who have seen death, betrayal, and genocide, and combined it with the angst and insecurity of the entry into adolescence. And then she condensed all these enough that middle school readers could understand. Take that, Stephenie Meyer. If you'd like to join Juliana and me in discussing and debating these books, let me know. :)
I used to be very big on tradition and lack of change. While I still struggle with it a little bit, I realized a few years ago that change can be an amazing thing. Sure, some traditions are good, and when something's being done right, there's no need to change it for change's sake. But one has to be able to adapt to change when it does come. All of these renewals I've experienced have only helped to reinforce that. Whether it's sharing new life experiences and the joy of children, or breathing new life into an old room, or giving an old song new life, or finishing the story of the battle to save the Earth, or just renewing yourself for the next round of medical school, there is no problem with revisiting the old. But don't be afraid to look at it differently, since there's a good chance you'll find something amazing in it.
Well, so much for keeping up steady posting during school.
I'll say this, I can't really blame myself. One of my classmates said it best on the morning of our last final when he said, "This semester...felt like it was a year long." And it certainly did. Since my last post, we flew at the speed of light through an array of somewhat interrelated subjects through the insanity that was Fundamentals I and II. Learned skills of how to deal with difficult patients suffering from physical as well as emotional pain in Clinical Practice of Medicine. Felt like doctors as we fulfilled our assignments of talking to patients in the real world with our preceptors ensuring our progress. And of course, the dreaded yet amazing tour de force that was anatomy. But we made it through, and without too much damage. Over a quick hurdle of biostatistics that our exhausted minds only barely absorbed, and then into the sweet freedom of winter break to renew our mental strength and capacity for next semester.
But as exhausting as the semester was - reducing some of us to tears, some to fits of fried laughter, and some to numbness - I and most of my classmates would not have had it any other way. We were exactly where we wanted to be. And it's worth the craziness.
But that's not what I'm writing about today. I find myself thinking about how, in addition to rejuvenating my brain, this winter break has been a major time of renewal for me.
I renewed my connections with my extended family over Christmas weekend. I have a big extended family - 29 first cousins! (I'll pause a moment while you gasp.) I absolutely love it. Since they range from ages 5 to 30-something, I relate to some of them better than others, but it's always a happy moment when I can see any of them, usually because a significant amount of time passes between such occasions. It's great to catch up with them. I have older cousins who have forged a path into the medical field (we're Indian, big surprise) who now tell me war stories of their time in medical school, and give me advice on where to go from here. I also have younger cousins who look to me for guidance - at least, they would if I saw them more, to my regret. But more than that, we just have a good time in each other's company - watching movies, trading stories, talking about how silly or wise our parents are, and (in my family's case) playing the couch game (I'll explain later). Being with them is always awesome, and one of my goals for the future is to see them more, or at least keep in touch better.
I also renewed my connection with the house in which I grew up. We just had all of our hardwood floors redone, and there are few things that make you see a room more differently than taking all the furniture (and everything associated with that furniture) out of it. "Were those walls always pink?" "Where did this rug come from?" "Oh, that's where I lost that shirt!"
And then I reconnected with Richard Marx. Not in person, I've never met the guy, though I'd like to some day. I know what you're thinking now - "Who's Richard Marx?" Check out his songwriting and production discography and you're bound to recognize one-third to one-half of the names. Richard Marx's self-titled album was the first music I ever owned - my father handed the audio cassette to me, I slapped it into my Walkman, and that was that. My cousins will tell you how I used to listen to that tape almost obsessively, and in retrospect I was pretty ridiculous. But I just found something relevant in his music, something spoke to me. In addition to writing songs for other artists, he's put out several albums of his own over the last 23 years, and just recently released "Stories to Tell," a compilation album with acoustic and electric re-recordings of songs he wrote for himself and for others. And on top of that, he actually replied to one of my Tweets! I reacted quite calmly on Twitter, simply re-Tweeting it, but I was definitely doing a little dance when I saw it.
And finally...I know most avid readers like myself use their downtime to get into amazing new series like "The Hunger Games" or great biographies or instant classics or the next Tom Clancy or John Grisham book. Me? I chose to use this time to reconnect with The Animorphs. Mostly due to the fact that my friend Juliana keeps insisting that I should finish them, and I like the satisfaction of finishing a series. So I picked up where I left off at book 19 and am continuing all the way through #54.
All of these renewals had something in common: there was some level of change involved in my experience. Many of my cousins, the ones who watched over me and influenced me in my childhood, have children of their own now, all in the age range of 1-7. The last time I was in that full of a house for Christmas, surrounded by running children...I was one of the running children. I love kids, I always have. And it's interesting to see the other side of these interactions - to be the one watching over them as they have adventures by the couches, the monster that they need to fight, or the airplane to help them fly into the next room. It's no preparation for actually raising children, but it does make me look forward to the idea...but not for a while.
Meanwhile, inside the house, our living room, dining room, my parents' bedroom, and all the kids rooms look radically different. Partially because with Robin now being the principle child of the house and me only visiting on major holidays, my parents moved her into my old room and me into her smaller one. That's different. But just the feel of the rooms is different now. They're cleaner, for sure, but the shiner floors and some new furniture bring a new essence to them. It's unfamiliar, but it's like a rebirth. Like I'm exploring the rooms for the first time, in a new leather cockpit and new shiny wood and glass control panels and a much cleaner interior. Though, for those of you that have seen my living room before...the giant picture of Jesus is still in the same place. :)
Richard Marx's latest album has a disc of reworked versions of his classic hits, as well as recordings of some of the songs he's written for other artists. I was always Backstreet Boys over N*Sync, but I really enjoy Marx's versions of "This I Promise You." Marx spent most of the '90s in the Adult Contemporary section, but he's brought out more of his modern rock side in the 2000s, returning to his roots but adapting to the times. And I love artists that do that. (Side note on comebacks and adapations: While I agree that Madonna could make a very successful comeback, who thought it was a good idea to have her do the Super Bowl halftime show? I don't wish unemployment on anyone, but I kinda hope that person was fired.)
And the Animorphs? Well, in middle school - the last time I picked these books up - they were just entertaining books. But now, in my 20s, I see much more in the books. I mean, I hate eisegesis as much as the next guy, so I'll try to avoid that. But in addition to seeing how much K.A. Applegate influenced my own writing, I was astonished to see the depth in the stories. The middle school kid heroes of the series have aged greatly in the course of 30 books. Applegate has effectively captured the battle-ravaged minds of warriors who have seen death, betrayal, and genocide, and combined it with the angst and insecurity of the entry into adolescence. And then she condensed all these enough that middle school readers could understand. Take that, Stephenie Meyer. If you'd like to join Juliana and me in discussing and debating these books, let me know. :)
I used to be very big on tradition and lack of change. While I still struggle with it a little bit, I realized a few years ago that change can be an amazing thing. Sure, some traditions are good, and when something's being done right, there's no need to change it for change's sake. But one has to be able to adapt to change when it does come. All of these renewals I've experienced have only helped to reinforce that. Whether it's sharing new life experiences and the joy of children, or breathing new life into an old room, or giving an old song new life, or finishing the story of the battle to save the Earth, or just renewing yourself for the next round of medical school, there is no problem with revisiting the old. But don't be afraid to look at it differently, since there's a good chance you'll find something amazing in it.
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