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Hey everyone! I just wanted to remind you all to embrace every moment because our time here is limited. Life gets so busy, but it's crucial to remember that we're only here for a short while, so let's make the most of it! I'm incredibly grateful for the universe blessing me with a healthy body, a healthy mind, and everything else I need for a fulfilling life. Let's start with my arrival into this world on September 14, 2006. My early years are a bit hazy, but I've been told that I was quite mischievous and loved taking my toys apart. I was ecstatic to start school at around 4 or 5 years old and got involved in nursery school and karate. I've always been passionate about learning, and I'll never forget the pride I felt when I scored 98% on a final exam, ranking first in my entire class. However, that joy faded a bit when my name was omitted from the award ceremony list and my scorecard was tampered with. It was a tough reality check for me. Afterward, I was feeling a bit down, but my parents took me to a Gift/Toy Shop to buy me a gift to cheer me up. I was stubborn and insisted on receiving an award/gift from school on a stage, but they bought me an expensive gift anyway, which I didn't accept at the time. Now, it's one of my most cherished memories, and the toy is proudly displayed on my memory shelf. This experience toughened me up and taught me some invaluable life lessons. Since then, I've grown to achieve a 2nd Dan Black Belt in Karate and I'm currently pursuing higher studies. I'm sharing this story not for your sympathy, but to illustrate that life often gives us a reality check. Maintaining a positive mindset has been crucial for me. It's not about the circumstances or the situation, but what we take from them that truly matters. I've also discovered that physical exercise has been a secret to building mental strength. Just a favor to ask: if you make a decision, keep it to yourself until you've applied it in your life. Also, it's best not to give advice on matters that you haven't personally experienced or don't have expertise in. Ananda, or true happiness, is within each of us. Start your self-discovery journey and embrace it. If you'd like to hear more about my life events, feel free to ask!

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I had yet to hear about some virus in March when it had already been murdering the thousands of lives of innocent people. I guess what they say about Friday the 13th is true because it just so happened to be Friday the 13th. The day it all went down. The day my country shut down. It was quite literally D-Day for all of us. Schools closed, businesses closed, and most importantly, my life felt like it had approached a closed door. Every day for the last 260 days since Friday the 13th, I have been at home. Alone. With the same people. Every single day. Trapped inside. With all of this alone time, I have accomplished one thing. I have managed to grow as a person and develop myself to be the best I can be. I have struggled with mental health greatly over the last decade and a half of my life, and through quarantine, I have allowed myself to rethink my life.

Today is a day of memories. I was born in Colorado, Colorado Springs USA. I came from my mother to loved me as long as I can remember and My dad helped pull me out of the womb. He even got put in the papers for it. haha. I lived there for a while, but not too long. My parents where missionaries, which meant a lot of moving. I'll never forget the first time I moved. And I'll also never forget the memories that I made there. I remember there being a the pink house with brown trim along with other houses we used to live in, many different family member houses we would go to and visit during the holidays from Colorado to south Dakota. I made a few friends who where just as imaginative as I was. We tended to let our minds build a world where time would simply disappear into. The days where never long enough, and we never had so much energy for life. I remember countless days on my grandparents farm/ranch out in south Dakota…there's something nice and safe about a big family who all depend on each other to survive and live and thrive. Hopefully I'll have that again one day. Many many many laughs are brought in with the many many characters of a big family haha. Needless to say the winters of Colorado are very unforgiving, I remember many times snow being much higher then my self even tho I was very young. And I remember falling many times on my behind because my dad would often salt the steps outside leading to the house so they wouldn't get ice on them. But many was the snow fun to play in!!!! Haha as a kid its a wonderland. Your telling me I can take something and build anything I want out of it and no one gets mad? Any kids dream is a land filled with what I believe to be called warm snow. (still have the imagination of a child apparently.) I'll never forget the first time we moved out of state for good. That was a very heart wrenching moment for me. I was very young, in the 2nd grade I I think, and when I overheard we where moving I remember thinking to my self and asking my mom and dad how we would pick up our house and move it so far? Hahaha, that memory often beings me a smirk. Even then I was wanting to hold onto something so bad I would be willing to physically pick up my house and move it!!! Hahaha oh silly little me. I remember the first moments of the drive once we got on the highway. As we crossed under the first bridge I couldn't help but look back and think unto my self “That's the end of the life I new” and o let a few tear drops fall down my cheek off my chin and onto the car seat. It wasn't a sobbing wailing moment. It was more of a moment of understanding I had to let it all go and just let the emotions flow. I think that was my first real lesson in life, to learn how to not hold onto things too tightly. And that was it! We moved to NC and thus began my new life there.

https://www.mycoronachronicle.com/post/pressured-time-during-the-coronavirus March 25, 2020 Today I watched the news while I drank my morning coffee. Watching news is now usually a most-of-the-day thing and “morning coffee” no longer a very meaningful phrase since I don't notice anymore when I cross the line between morning and afternoon. That's because the days — now weeks! — have started to stretch like chewed gum. Yes, it's been weeks. Who knows what day it is today? At the very least, admit it, we've started to squint and ask each other, “Thursday? No … Friday?” It doesn't matter anyway. It's officially day 14 of the COVID-19 pandemic and we're starting to see how little almost everything matters. I'm talking about things that mattered hugely up till now, or even just in February. I don't need to make a list because anyone reading this already knows every item on it (bus schedules, tax deductions, if your sports bra has 3-way stretch, who won “The Voice” — let's just say everything that isn't how much food you have in the house and whether that tickle in your throat means anything). An interesting thought: how many of the small things, which we were so consumed by until so recently, have stopped mattering because we now have truly big things to worry about … and how many never did matter? Already we're embarrassed by how we used to fret over them, though it's only been weeks, if not days. I want to do this because I see myself and everyone I know changing. I see my country changing, and I want to set it down while it's happening instead of afterward, when so many of the details will be lost. So let's start with my second revelation, which is that not only are we changing, and no matter how much we may resist, this pandemic will change us deeply and permanently. Even if some of us will avoid getting the virus, none of us can avoid being changed by it. I know dark times lie ahead but I hope some of the changes will be positive. Inevitably we'll look back on the arrival of the coronavirus with sorrow, probably anger, and maybe even rage, because every one of us is going to lose someone or something. And there will always be questions about how many of those losses were avoidable. But will we also look back and say, overall we're the better now for it? Will we say, we wouldn't have wished it on ourselves but it improved us —- as Americans? As humans, even? It's possible. But, of course, we can't know yet. As with all catastrophes, some individuals and groups are rising fast to the challenge, already growing from it, becoming heroes: we can see this in our health care workers, in some of our leaders, the people who deliver groceries to us, collect our garbage and recycling, the neighbors who call to ask if we need anything. Who among us will grow through this particular disaster? This crisis is occurring everywhere, so although it isn't everywhere at once, in a real sense there's also no running away. Because it too is on the move. When I think now about what I could have done to prepare. Me personally. I could've stocked my house better, gotten a separate freezer. I could have made sure all my outside business was taken care of, my work caught up. We all could've done those things. We could have asked our leaders, “what is our level of preparedness if this virus comes and is as bad as it is elsewhere, or worse? What can we do now to prepare, just in case?” Some people did do that. But most of us didn't. Today is March 25. I live in New Jersey where there are 4,402 confirmed cases of corona virus. The U.S. now has 54,453 cases but no one takes that number as fact because there's been so little testing, and it started so late. Whatever the real number is has to be higher. It's easier to count how many people have died of it: 737 nationwide, 62 of them in New Jersey. The storm has hit and we are getting wet and we can't escape. So we huddle in our houses and a lot of us try to look at the upside. We're warm and fed, today anyway. Spring is here, and it's great not to have to go to work. Except the street outside is empty and no planes fly overhead and streams of people keep walking by with dogs and strollers like they're headed to a fair. Something is off. This week, and it's only Wednesday, I've gotten so many things done: read three books, written two short fiction pieces, started this blog today. I've been on social media, cooking up a storm, watching movies. I've been cleaning the whole house, reorganizing closets, painting my bathroom vanity … all things I don't do enough of normally, or have been meaning to get to. But underneath, we know this is no vacation and we can't seem to really set that aside, no matter how we distract ourselves. We're all sad and scared and full of dread. Alone in our houses, we have never been so connected.

It seems as if I've begun again in the confinement of my bedroom. Shed my skin anew somehow. I tell others, "I do my best thinking when I work with a group!" But that always felt like an excuse to be heard. And to share my revelations with an audience. The trouble with isolation is that it allows you to think. Unpolluted. Without influence. With no audience. Suddenly things you knew to be truthful are not. And things you claimed to know are simply theory. And the person you understand like the back of your hand simply changes. I could tell others, "I do my best thinking when im alone!" But that would feel like an excuse to deconstruct myself. And to open the crevices of my mind and rearrange them to satisfaction. The trouble with isolation is that it is warm and dark. Brimming with damp. And ideas that seemed to be confined to small germs in small circular dishes. Just grow. and grow. and grow. Would it be so far off to say, "you were a completely different person when this started." I thought I knew myself. Knew what I liked. Knew what I loved. Alas, I was wrong. Polluted, with influence from an audience. I found myself questioning systems. Dissecting societal boundaries. Venturing past my knowledge of what it meant to be free from the binary. Past consciousness and decolonization. Confinement has possibly been one of the most freeing experiences of my life. That is not to say that I don't miss the wonders of the world. The beauty of comparison and admiration. Of envy and social calling. Of creation and of critique. It is simply to say self reflection true self reflection comes to me when I am alone. Identity blossoms and twists to face the sun. With nothing but time on my hands due to an everlasting quarantine. I water that garden unknowingly. I grow into someone else completely. I think that i grow into me. I think that I shed my skin anew. I think I've begun again. I think. I've done a lot of thinking.

Long walks- an everyday habit I picked up from my father-are my thought process. My calm down. My pump up. My escape. My whatever-I-need them to be. Growing up, the first place I was allowed to walk solo was to the neighborhood coffee shop. I remember the first sip of my sister's chai from there. Ew. What a weird notion that I would grow to love it. However, as I was frequently in need of a walking destination, I found my space there. (Although, it would be years before I gave chai the second chance it deserves.) Introduced to mocha granitas, coffee disguised in frozen chocolate milk, my current coffee addiction began. This, by itself, is a strange idea to reflect on. What has become so much of my daily routine, my work history, my fascination, and my hobby began with such a simple foundation. Such a seemingly small thing at the time that grew into so much of my life. See, the strange part though, is that the same can be said of my friendships. I know, right? Like I'm really about to compare my growth into coffee addiction to my growth as a human… (I am though, so just hang tight.) One of the most common things I heard as I prepared to leave for college was that I would always love my high school friends but that eventually we would leave each other behind…that my “best” friends would be made in college. Because that's “when people really start to figure out who they are.” Um, okay. I mean, don't get me wrong- I've met several of my best friends post high school. But, the majority of my closest friendships were formed during those high school years, and yes, we spread out far and wide geographically. (And hell, wait do I even know who I am now? Do people ever really feel like they're finished figuring themselves out, and they're just like chill, yeah, done growing, bro?) So, anyways, here's the concept of strong foundation again. As I transitioned to college, my coffee order began to change with me. For starters, frozen coffee was not included in my meal plan. And there were always late nights studying or freshman mornings that required just a little more kick. Maybe my coffee could be a little stronger. A little less milk. In addition, coffee walks remained my escape. And depending on the day, I could jam to the newest playlist my bestie had sent or bring a book and get lost in one of my favorite adventures. All with my comforting coffee in my hand. And eventually, I found love in just black cold brew. What a radical change from my initial order, but the love was still there. The way I came to drink and work with and find comfort in my brew changed but never the love for the brew. So many humans that I love I have seen change their order, their interests, their hobbies, their goals and aspirations, their fears, and their hopes. In those early college years, coming home to an old coffee hangout with a new order, I could only wonder if the relationships I had formed had changed too. It was a hollow fear. Although we were already far from being the same people that we once were, the original love remained. My friendships and my coffee have unquestioningly known the worst of my days. And both have only gained strength through my growth. Now, however, in my late twenties, I would never argue that I no longer know the person I was. The person that somehow stumbled upon those small, sweet moments that turned into the strongest of foundations. I can point out that I am no longer the same, nor am I proud of many parts of my past, but I still know that person, she is a foundation as well, of who I am today. I am often asked when dating to describe myself. To lay myself out on the line. But who do you want to know? I can tell you who I am in this moment, who I used to be, how I hope to grow, and yet, who I am remains difficult to define. I am fluctuating. Mornings that I have work I'm a chug-my-cold-brew-as-fast-as-I-can kind of person. Casual mornings with known or new humans, I'm more of a sit back and sip it kind of person. Often my coffee comes on adventures with me, giving me comfort when I'm lost in a story. Frequently, a coffee means a coffee and walk. Sometimes, it's an oat milk dirty chai kind of moment. And others, it's a black, so very black, add a double shot day. It's a fluctuation. With a basic, strong foundation- my love for the brew. My love for coffee is honest but not always simple. Humans are the same. We're forever fluctuating in who we are, each moment an addition to our own definition. And sometimes, we are fortunate enough to collide with another human, in such a small way and create this foundation for love that lasts through the ages.

Your immediate reaction to the title is most likely one of the following: WHAT??? WHY??? How could you?? I could never… Or something along the lines of… Okay, cool 👍 Is that…a big deal? Literally no one cares. …What's Instagram again? If you are younger than 20, though, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that your response probably belongs to the first group. Pardon the generalization, but stereotypes do exist for some reason. Deleting one of my primary sources of social media was a decision that was one of many in my quest to maximize personal growth, success, and happiness… but it also stemmed from a lot of mysterious discontent in my life, of which the exact roots could not be traced. Of course, as an 18-year-old, I have always known that social media has a very strong presence in our lives. But truthfully, I never really thought deeply about the extent to which it had an influence over me and the role it played in my life, my growth, and my overall happiness. Until now. But what prompted this profound train of thought? The answer: a well timed-series of events. (Life has a funny way of making that happen.) A few weeks ago, one of my good friends deleted her Instagram. At the time, though I fully understood and agreed with her reasons, I didn't believe that I could do it myself — to just go and delete years of memories and connections that, though documented virtually, were still made in real life. The idea of all those memories and connections gone made my heart ache. After we talked about it, I didn't dwell on it too much, but not long after, upon my return to university, I unfortunately started to struggle with my overall happiness again. Something I had difficulty with in a totally new environment was finding people who I had a natural connection with: similar interests, values, lifestyles, etc. But this time, another layer of complexity was added. While the last time I had struggled with finding new kindred souls, now, I was having trouble staying on the same wavelength as some longtime friends. To be honest, in my desire to constantly learn and grow, I believe that a gap was widening at an exponential rate, and an obstruction had been reached in some of my relationships: I don't believe that you have to have everything in common with someone to be friends, but… the differences had started to outweigh the similarities. In attempt to solve my problems, I tried to pinpoint one identifiable thing that attributed to why I felt out of place sometimes with people around my age. TikTok. Okay, hear me out. I'm really not against people having a good time but TikTok has always seemed a tad frivolous to me. Yet, a crazy amount of people my age and younger are quite active on the app, and I started to wonder… why is it such an epidemic? And just how many people have been pulled into the greater vortex of online culture due to peer influences and desired connectivity? Moreover, I wondered if, despite my prideful resistance, a part of me was also feeling natural pressures to be like the “average” person my age… I have always been told that I am quite mature relative to my peers, but despite that, was I still being held down by age expectations? I mean, so many times, I have felt the subconscious urge to say something out of character in order to produce a laugh or be “relatable”. Though the Internet breeds insane creativity at times (Youtube and Instagram, especially!), it is also quite proficient in stunting individuality. I think most people can understand the feeling of doing something you don't really want to do, saying something you don't really believe in, or hanging out with people you don't really like. I've come to realize that this whole “trying to stick to the status quo” act is truly a waste of time, energy, and potential… not to mention a huge hindrance to our personal growth. Social media having the ability to direct my growth and my ideals more than I am actively aware of is something that I now want to inhibit, or at least be able to control completely. This is how everything that I have been feeling AND observing — isolation, loneliness, alienation, insecurity, insincerity, fear, uniformity — comes together. And ultimately, this is why I chose to delete my Instagram. I wanted to detach from something that I've been connected to for many, many years of my life during a critical period of growth. I realize that I need to grow by myself and become the person I want to be without an excess of influences pulling me in all sorts of directions that may not reflect what I truly want. Sometimes you need to distance yourself from what you know, from what is familiar, to figure out who you are. And who you aren't. I suppose I can understand now why people go on those mysterious silent retreats into the mountains… Anyway, I don't want to mould myself based off of other people anymore. From now on, I want to be my truest, individual self. My own self.

Aloof? Aloof you say? I'm so sorry if I made you feel that way. It's really not my intention, Though the reaction is of my own invention. You see, long ago I built a wall, A defence mechanism as I recall. So for me to draw close, is still very hard, After misplacing that important trust card. #AdielaAkoo Get Lost in a Quatrain here: https://adielaakoo.wixsite.com/writer/shop

July 1, 2011 started just like any other day. Or at least I think it would have, since I don't remember it. I had spent the previous night at my boyfriend's home in anticipation of celebrating Canada Day together. We'd been dating for three months and it was my first serious relationship. We watched a movie, attempted to drink wine and went to bed. From what I've been told, we woke up and left to pick up my boyfriend's brother before continuing to the Canada Day Celebrations in Mission, BC. Except we didn't make it to the Tim Hortons. In fact, we apparently didn't make it more than maybe 10 minutes from his house when his shiny red Camaro hit the tree that would change the direction of both our lives. “A young man and woman have been airlifted to hospital after a car veered off the Lougheed Highway and crashed into a tree Friday morning.” - CTV “Crash closes Lougheed highway east of Mission” - Mission Record/BC Local News “Two people have been sent to hospital after a serious accident in the Deroche area this morning” - News1130 All the facts I have, I've collected from news articles as well as the recollections of family and friends. The shiny red car my boyfriend loved had somehow veered off the road, turned 180 degrees and hit a tree on the driver's side. We ended up in the yard of a retired emergency responder who was responsible for removing me from the passenger's seat. I was admitted to the hospital and my boyfriend was flown to the more specialized trauma hospital. My first memory is one of no particular excitement. I woke up on our living room couch, a “Get Well” balloon attached to the coffee table and a television program playing in the background. Eventually someone fills me in about what happened. I have a Traumatic Brain Injury, a black eye, back and neck pain, bruising on my arms and a wicked headache. The next few weeks are a whirlwind of visits from well wishers, doctor appointments, a meeting with my new lawyer, my first visit to see my boyfriend in the hospital and a lot of time spent on my couch. From the TBI, I developed the attention span of a lemming, no longer able to watch a full length television program or read a complex novel. The rest of the summer continues, each week repeating the other as friends and acquaintances visit, I routinely see my doctor, I make trips to see my boyfriend in the hospital and I lie on the couch. It is soon suggested that I may want to consider delaying my return to school. I was slated to begin the final year of a diploma program. As I continued to have irrational emotional responses, mysterious headaches, a limited attention span, the inability to stand for long periods of time and a horrible memory, my doctor and mother were concerned about the potential of me graduating. I looked at this concern as a challenge; I stubbornly returned to classes in the fall, completed two semesters of practicum placements and graduated on time. Over the past 8 years since the car accident I have seen a variety of treatment specialists: neurologists, neuropsychologists, counselors, vocational specialists, physiologists, physiotherapists, massage therapists, chiropractors and an acupuncturist. While many of my physical injuries have been dealt with or have reached a manageable state, many of the invisible ones continue. From the reports of these specialists, I have a combination of anxiety, minor depression, chronic posttraumatic headaches, long and short term memory deficits and working memory deficits stemming from the “moderate traumatic brain injury”. I have had the same conversation with someone in the span of ten minutes, forgotten cherished childhood memories, hid under a desk at work when an intimidating customer walked by and cried in my car because of traffic. During my most recent visit to a vocational specialist, she reported that while I would likely obtain my Bachelor of Arts in Communication from SFU, with minor struggles and some accommodations, I would have difficulty transitioning into full time work. In her opinion, my chosen field of nonprofit fundraising would present more challenges than I could overcome with my “unresolved physical, cognitive and psychological complaints.” She also writes, “Ms. Tipper's need for accommodations would likely reduce her efficiency and productivity on the job, and render her a less attractive candidate for employment compared to non-injured individuals vying for the same positions in the open labour market.” I'm happy to say that just as before, I've taken her report as a challenge and graduated. I've taken workshops to help manage stress and anxiety (triggers for headaches), own a planner for work, utilize a Google calendar and write almost everything down in a notebook for safekeeping. So far, I haven't had any complaints about my efficiency or productivity; instead, I'm often complimented on it.

Life can get in the way, you can lose yourself in what seemed like “marriage” was just a travesty. Making everything about them and after years of being pushed down, submitting to what you thought was love. Love doesn't take you for granted, it doesn't make you feel inferior, or forgotten, with no human kindness. Losing yourself in a whirlwind of self-loathing, being unseen. Nothing to lose after you have lost everything, so long from the realization that this is not who and what you want to be. Broken, but not departed, desperate for your life that was lost, never forgotten. Nothing is more powerful than the words on your wedding day, “to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part.” Magical words, wanting to be apart of something special, powerful, partners, best friends, lovers for life. It was good for a while, but then things changed a little at first, but it began to gain momentum, faster and faster until you are looking at yourself in the mirror of your heart, of your soul and you don't recognize yourself. Words are powerful, they do not cut you, bruise you, make you bleed, but the scars are there and eventually, they break you down, make you submit. Then distrust comes billowing in like a hurricane. It comes in waves of anger, that is when your mear tears become oceans that flow through your eyes, your heart, draining you of every thought, every piece of happiness. But you still fight for your marriage, even though you know deep inside of yourself that he's the one that is dishonest, fake, a cheat. And finally, through all this hate, despair, and pain you see your life for what it is almost nonexistent. You gain the realization that this is not what you wanted, you wanted a healthy, happy partnership with someone that is a man, not a self-centered, self-absorbed, selfish child, that isn't happy unless he is demeaning, dreadful and cruel. You deserve better, you want better, you need better because you are a loving, caring, affectionate woman, wanting back what you give. Yearning for physical touch, affection, caring, love, is that unattainable? It isn't, it's out there for anyone that loves themselves enough not to settle for less in everything. So you fight one evening to the point of exhaustion and you see it as clear as the falling rain, you are done. Declaring it's over, you want a divorce, no more! As if the weight on your soul lifts and the floodgates open up and you mourn for your heart, your soul, the person that you used to be. Because you are changed, you have evolved from this shadow of the person that you were, into someone so new that you haven't a clue how to find out about who you really are. Like a phoenix that will rise out of the flames and ashes, maintaining possession of all that is good and beautiful about you. Don't allow your heart to turn to stone, your soul to flee, your love is still apart of who you are, at no time giving up on the possibility of finding love. Now almost a year later and things have changed in ways you never thought were possible, where there was pain there is now strength, where there were tears there is laughter, where there was an empty feeling there is now a sense of fullness. You have not felt this way in so many years, you are free in all sense of the word. Never looking back, but aware of what had transpired. Knowing God has a plan for you, all you have to do is listen, follow the path that was planned for you. Finding someone that is amazing, caring, supportive, giving you what you need even when you aren't quite sure that you need it at the time. Getting to know him and just have fun and laugh is such a precious gift that I am eternally grateful for. You are following your dreams and you are growing and learning every day something useful, with meaning. Knowing that you are right where you are supposed to be, and it is elating. Don't look back, the past is in the past and it does not matter, it's irrelevant because you have so much to look forward to in the days to come, the months, the years the future is vast with so many possibilities. This is what true happiness is, you only have to make the choice and grab it with both hands never letting go. I look forward to every tomorrow and what will happen every day, life is good you only have to search around you and you will find it in the most mundane things. Those are the things that make incredible memories that you can hold on to for a lifetime, the pain and despair can seem bigger than life, but you are wrong all you have to do is be open to the light. You will see it in the beauty of every day, looking at nature around you, hearing the birds sing, honey bees buzzing, lizards sunbathing. Seeing it in the night sprinkled with stars and the moon is looking at you bathing in its iridescent beams. I am the life of the forgotten, and I will rise like a phoenix because it is meant to be, I am free.

Borders are a part of our everyday lives, we cross them going from one side of town to the other, from one city to the next, and when traveling state to state there is usually a sign along the highway happily welcoming us into the next territory. There are borders separating neighbors properties, fences to keep that dog that is always getting out of his yard out of someone's trash cans, even if they live in an isolated area with some farm animals borders are there. They are there to keep the chickens in the coop, keep the pigs in the pen, and to keep the sheep from wandering off. As hard as it may be to believe there are some people who live in one place their whole lives and never venture outside of the city of their birth, maybe some never leave the house but even they encounter borders in their daily lives. In a lot of low-income areas, there are people, as previously mentioned, who never go far from home. A high school friend never saw a mall until she was in her twenties, she never saw the ocean until she was in her thirties. The boundaries that kept her and her sisters living in one town for most of their lives were unimaginable to me. Even as a teenager, my sister and I would jump on a train and head to Newark N.J. to go shopping, or hop on the bus and go to the mall. We would go down to the shore, that's going to the beach if you're from New Jersey, with my grandparents at least twice a month in the summer as children. The world outside of my hometown was never out of reach for me, but there are people who were much younger than myself, who never crossed the local borders. There are things that keep people stuck in one place, poverty being one of them. With this being a factor for many, the part of the world that they see is very small, except on television. Introduce gang violence into the equation and their borders become even smaller. When I was in sixth grade, they were still busing students to different areas for elementary and middle school. Your friends would be people from every part of town and as children, people got along as well as children do. In 1979, a movie called The Warriors came out, around that time is when I remember seeing the older guys where I lived start to form “gangs.” They were quite mild by today's definition of what makes a gang, but it's after that point that the invisible borders began to appear in the area. You knew what part of town they were from by the name they chose, the guys where I lived were called Queen City Rollers, named after a bar that was on a corner adjacent to the apartments we lived in. There was a movie theatre that every kid and teen in the area went to but after the teens started to identify as gangs, it was a gamble to go. One incident that I remember clearly was an all-out brawl that started the process of the owner closing the place down. The movie theater was located in an area that was considered to belong to one group, so any other group who made their way there risked getting into an altercation. Eventually, these guys could not go far from where it is that they lived, this was the reason some of the older guys dropped out of school, there was one high school and for them, the risk was too great to care about education. This, of course, put a further limitation on what borders they would face in their lives. A lot of these guys ended up incarcerated at some point, some only went once while to others, it was a home away from home. This invisible boundary that was created by their own actions assured that the borders that kept them stagnant in life would be greater than the opportunity to move beyond them. With there being so many outside influences that could create situations and circumstances to keep one locked into a certain sector of society, self-imposed boundaries to me, would be the most hindering. In my adult life I've broken through quite a few borders, set by my family, society or even myself, and I've learned that getting out of your comfort zone and moving beyond what you know is one of the most freeing feelings you could imagine. Even if you venture a little too far and long for home, escaping the ties that bind you gives you the wind beneath your wings, or possibly wings or your sneakers. Wherever the wings land, breaking through those borders is guaranteed to make you soar far and wide, seeking other boundaries to cross.

Borders are a part of our everyday lives, we cross them going from one side of town to the other, from one city to the next, and when traveling state to state there is usually a sign along the highway happily welcoming us into the next territory. There are borders separating neighbors properties, fences to keep that dog that is always getting out of his yard out of someone's trash cans, even if they live in an isolated area with some farm animals borders are there. They are there to keep the chickens in the coop, keep the pigs in the pen, and to keep the sheep from wandering off. As hard as it may be to believe there are some people who live in one place their whole lives and never venture outside of the city of their birth, maybe some never leave the house but even they encounter borders in their daily lives. In a lot of low-income areas, there are people, as previously mentioned, who never go far from home. A high school friend never saw a mall until she was in her twenties, she never saw the ocean until she was in her thirties. The boundaries that kept her and her sisters living in one town for most of their lives were unimaginable to me. Even as a teenager, my sister and I would jump on a train and head to Newark N.J. to go shopping, or hop on the bus and go to the mall. We would go down to the shore, that's going to the beach if you're from New Jersey, with my grandparents at least twice a month in the summer as children. The world outside of my hometown was never out of reach for me, but there are people who were much younger than myself, who never crossed the local borders. There are things that keep people stuck in one place, poverty being one of them. With this being a factor for many, the part of the world that they see is very small, except on television. Introduce gang violence into the equation and their borders become even smaller. When I was in sixth grade, they were still busing students to different areas for elementary and middle school. Your friends would be people from every part of town and as children, people got along as well as children do. In 1979, a movie called The Warriors came out, around that time is when I remember seeing the older guys where I lived start to form “gangs.” They were quite mild by today's definition of what makes a gang, but it's after that point that the invisible borders began to appear in the area. You knew what part of town they were from by the name they chose, the guys where I lived were called Queen City Rollers, named after a bar that was on a corner adjacent to the apartments we lived in. There was a movie theatre that every kid and teen in the area went to but after the teens started to identify as gangs, it was a gamble to go. One incident that I remember clearly was an all-out brawl that started the process of the owner closing the place down. The movie theater was located in an area that was considered to belong to one group, so any other group who made their way there risked getting into an altercation. Eventually, these guys could not go far from where it is that they lived, this was the reason some of the older guys dropped out of school, there was one high school and for them, the risk was too great to care about education. This, of course, put a further limitation on what borders they would face in their lives. A lot of these guys ended up incarcerated at some point, some only went once while to others, it was a home away from home. This invisible boundary that was created by their own actions assured that the borders that kept them stagnant in life would be greater than the opportunity to move beyond them. With there being so many outside influences that could create situations and circumstances to keep one locked into a certain sector of society, self-imposed boundaries to me, would be the most hindering. In my adult life I've broken through quite a few borders, set by my family, society or even myself, and I've learned that getting out of your comfort zone and moving beyond what you know is one of the most freeing feelings you could imagine. Even if you venture a little too far and long for home, escaping the ties that bind you gives you the wind beneath your wings, or possibly wings or your sneakers. Wherever the wings land, breaking through those borders is guaranteed to make you soar far and wide, seeking other boundaries to cross.

Most stories about people's lives are only ever small segments of them as a whole. We will never really know the completeness of a person, nor will we really know our own selves. We do not remember every moment of our lives, or at least it has been proven nearly impossible to do so without the use of outside stimulants. This is very much like our understanding of all that is reality. We are constantly searching, growing, creating and reshaping in this world as the world itself is. It never stops. Even after we die, our bodies change and become one with the earth. We are still creating new life after death. Sure there are periods of rest, but never true finality. It is unfathomable for us to comprehend a cease of existence, and so we question and wonder. Even in the Bible God states in Genesis that His work was “good” but not perfect or finished. God is constantly creating us and wants us to create with Him. I believe that even without truly being able to know each other completely, we can try through interpreting each others actions. Communication through words and action are powerful tools. We learn to work together despite differences, and learn to create unique items through difference. Diversity makes room for growth. And growth is part of creation.