revisiting.

Oh Hey, Internet, it's been a while.

I have recently found myself humbled/beside myself/proud to find that the student organization I started at URI my senior year with my best friends is still alive and well. We were a small group then, hardly expanded outside of my social circle, and yet, two years after graduation I stumbled upon the facebook group once again and found it active, enthusiastic, and captained by a complete stranger. Way to go, self, way to take the jump and hope people will jump with you, way to trust a complete stranger to be in control of something so dear to you.

The night it all started, when I begged my friends to come over and watch a documentary that had changed the way I looked at/did everything, I was impressed simply that they broke down and came to watch another sad story about Africa. When the film ended and the first words spoken were "So What Can We Do??" I knew exactly what was next. Schools for Schools, though becoming a fainter memory each day, still ranks up there in my top 5 bravest, proudest accomplishments. With the help of my best friends, I co-founded a non-profit that has to date raised thousands of dollars with the extraordinarily limited resources that are at the hands of poor college kids, plus limitless enthusiasm and energy. And it wasn't until this moment that I look back and can say, "WOW!" It's just a small part of a much larger national organization, but it's a small part that wouldn't have existed were it not for me. I gave presentations in classes at URI, I ran programs in dorms, I gave presentations in high schools, I even gave a presentation for a student group at a university in Canada. I'm overwhelmed with the gravity of it all.

Two years later I miss the apple peeling/cutting/baking that I thought would make me hate apples forever. I miss our statistics bridge. I miss late nights, early mornings, and freezing my butt off. I miss planning a statewide event, I miss the thrill of people actually showing up for a statewide event. I miss our little room in the Memorial Union, I miss the fellowship and team spirit of strangers converging upon a big city for a common cause, I miss the constant churning of my brain.

I miss the part of myself that would throw caution to the wind and book a flight to San Diego that I can't afford, a hotel in San Diego that I can't afford, and put myself in a group of like-minded strangers ready to learn and broaden their sense of everything. I miss constantly making friends with strangers all over the country. And I miss those friends.

I miss knowing how to to make a positive impact on the world every day. I miss not being afraid to dream outrageously.

And yet, all at the same time, I have discovered the beauty of just letting go. Taking a leap and not worrying about whether I'll land on my feet, get caught midair, or fall on my face. It's scary as hell, but I'm not turning back. My love is my whole being.