Meaghan Shea Prof.

Ingram English 1103 036 4 December 2012 Things That Are Yearned For From the time I was old enough to read, I spent the moments before my bedtime kneeling at the end of my bed, saying my prayers, and memorizing Max Ehrmans Desiderata. The poem, handwritten in my dads leather-bound notebook, was longer than anything a five-year-old ever wanted to learn. Each night my dad would teach me a new line, and eventually I had it down by heart. I didnt know it then, but those words echo throughout my life now more than I ever thought they would. Desiderata itself means things that are yearned for, and the tenets it preached reflect themselves in my life, particularly in its defining moments. When I look back on my life, my story, I think of the things and experiences that continually prove their worth in my life. When I dug deep, I discovered a couple experiences that shaped who I am today and continue to shape the person I will be tomorrow.

Defining moment number one: moving to Boston. When my parents told me we would leave our home in Lacombe, Louisiana, I looked at it as an adventure, an extended vacation on which my eight-year-old self would be privileged to embark. A year later, my nine-year-old self was supremely unhappy in our severely downsized abode immediately outside the city of Boston, Massachusetts.

My dad worked more now, my mom busied herself unpacking, and I shared a room with one of my two younger sisters. I spent the better part of our first year suffering from shyness and fearing rejection. Where were my friends? Id grown up around the same people my entire childhood, and suddenly they were gone. Readjusting went against every fiber of my being, social anxiety plagued me in even the simplest situations, like thanking the lady handing out free samples at Costco. I was incapable of making myself vulnerable enough to make new friendsI simply sank away. Eventually, it was time to sink or swim, and after sinking for quite some time, I branched out slowly but surely. I tried out for the club field hockey team, making the cut, much to my surprise. I made friends, a clique much like those I tried to emulate in Lizzie McGuire. Small new accomplishments became bigger, more frequent accolades over the four years I lived in Boston. Each day was a challenge, but eventually I gained some social grace. These building blocks lead me, as the clich goes, onto bigger and better things. Without the growth I experienced in Boston, I would never have had the gumption to make it through high school as successfully as I did or to come to Charlotte, a city where I didnt know a soul, for college. Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence Defining moment number two: gaining my best friend. Fast-forward three years and Im a junior in high school living outside Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Its a Sunday afternoon, and Im heading over to my friend

Madys house. Halfway there, I call her to warn her of my impending arrival, making sure she has food ready for my starving self. She admits she has two of her friends over already, even though she knows I hate when she doubles up on friend groups. I arrive and let myself into here basement, where she introduces me to her friends, Zac and Greg. Zac was on the shorter side, with a stocky build and a sweet face. Comparatively, Greg was a giant. I judged he was a couple inches past six foot, with vestiges of baby fat still clinging to his face and midsection (though he would later tone up and become excessively attractive). I introduced myself to them both, and Zac swept me into immediate conversation. He and Greg, I learned, were neighbors and best friends. Greg had a huge thing for Mady, Zac revealed, despite the fact she had a tendency to change boys more than I changed outfits. After two agonizing months of mediating a pseudo-relationship between Greg and Mady, and trying to tame Zac, who denied my request of a platonic friendship in favor of following me around with puppy-like adoration, things settled down. Somewhere along the way, Greg and I had become unnervingly close. We never discussed why, or how, or explicitly defined what, but I knew he was my best friend. I knew how he felt when his friend committed suicide. I poured his NyQuil down the drain when he would sleep off his depression. I bought him a new 3 Iron after he broke his in frustration at the State Championship golf tournament. I kept him from buying hideously colored plaid shirts when we frequented the Polo Ralph Lauren outlet. He took me to Taco Bell to celebrate every cross country or track race I won, and he never let me pay. He made me talk about my feelings. When my friend died in the summer before our senior year, he brought me to the funeral, and though I swore I

couldnt make it through the service, I did. He laughed at my threats of violence if he were to spend money on my Christmas present. When I got the call that my Uncle Pauliemy friends fatherhad died, I was in his car, and he let me wipe my smeared makeup off on his favorite Polo quarter-zip sweater. And the morning I left for college he hugged me goodbye, refusing to let me spew my negativity, even though there were tears in his eyes as he said it. No one had ever tried my morals and standards as much as Greg did as he spiraled downward after his friends death, yet, at the same time, no one made me stronger. I stood my ground against the negative influences he fell under and helped him on his journey back to normalcy. In return, he built and support my newfound strength as I continued to grow. The confidence and conviction Gregs friendship required me to exercise helped me to grow made me that much stronger going forward. Such qualities and growth became an integral part of who I am today because of my friendship with Greg.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly, and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story Defining moment number three: hasnt happened yet. I think that part of the beauty of people is that theyre so dynamic. And, for that reason, its impossible to say what last moment will define my life until after it happens. However, I can say with stalwart certainty that there will be one, if not many, more moments that will mold the essence of what make me who I am.

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether of not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Though it may seem trivial, coming out of my metaphorical shell in Boston was the beginning of a lot of things for me. I could no longer settle for what was in front of me, and I could not expect things to happen by chance. This lesson pushed me to most of my successes thereafter. These realizations make me who I am. I cannot stress enough the impact of those around me on every facet of my psyche and personality. That being said, theres something unique about having a best frienda singular, undivided, definitive best friend. Ive learned so much about people and hardships and playing golf and compassion and emotion and life and so much more from my best friend. The camaraderie doesnt have to be unconditional; there are no familial ties, there arent even romantic ties, but its unconditional anyway. That, more than anything shaped me as a person. As much as I can, I try to reach beyond anything with which Ive ever been comfortable. What its like to be me is to constantly try to push yourself into the unfamiliar, the untried, and the daunting. Of course, I dont always succeed, and I allow myself to hesitate in the familiar more than I would like. Nevertheless, Id like to think of myself as someone who would try anything once, but never make the same mistake twice. Just as Max Ehrman concluded in Desiderata: With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, It is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.