I don’t really like the question “When do you feel most alive?” I think that this makes it seem like only the really exciting part of your life are the parts that make you who you are. That isn’t true, even the small everyday things can really shape you are a person. Also a lot of people will give the career or life advice of “finding the thing that makes you feel alive.” I think this is misleading, and makes it harder to figure out what it is you love because of your sky high expectations. (*Note when I say you, I’m actually talking about me, please don’t point it out, it’s too late to turn back now) Moving past this idea helped me learn some really important things about passions. Just because you love something, doesn’t mean it’s easy, doesn’t mean that it isn’t work. Just because you love something, doesn’t mean you’ll love it all the time. I’ve figure out the hard way that just because you like something doesn’t mean it’s a reward or a break. You can’t reward work with more work. Just because you love something doesn’t mean other people will love it too.
So despite my distaste I am going to attempt to answer the question anyway. I believe that the times I feel most alive are the times when I am most challenged. I remember times of feel alive when even though I might not have wanted to because I was tired, unsure, or scared, I did my best. The first example of this that comes to mind is actually a story I told in a college essay. The summer after my freshman year of high school I went on a trip through my church with Appalachian Service Project. On this trip we worked to make people’s houses warmer, safer, and dryer. On the work site my team was on, we were doing work on the roof. Now I should probably preface by saying that I am terrified of heights. When I was really little I wouldn’t even go up and down certain stairwells by myself. Even today, I hate elevators with glass. So we were working on a tin roof of a trailer, the kind that are not know to be very sturdy. So another girl, Anna, and I were picked to go up because we were the lightest. I really wanted to do this but I was really scared I’d embarrass myself. I’d attempted to be brave in this area before and been utterly humiliated. They set up the ladder and I went up first, regretting my choice with every rung on the ladder. I feared once I got up I would be too afraid to climb back down. Anna stood on the ladder and handed the supplies up to me on the roof. My hands were shaking, and I was very careful to look only at Anna’s hands and face to keep from looking down. My head was spinning; I couldn’t believe I was actually going through with this. As soon as we had all of our supplies, the rest of our team went back around the house to work on the porch. We learned that we both like corny jokes and after a few minutes, conversation came easily. I found that it was much better if I looked out to the treetops instead of looking down at the grass. The more time we spent up there, the more comfortable I felt. After an hour and a half we ran out of paint, so we came back down to cool off. About five minutes after coming down, I was possessed by this urge to climb back up the ladder onto the roof. I felt just as uncomfortable on ground as I had when I first climbed up on the roof. With shaking hands, I walked to the ladder and climbed back up. There was no reason for me to be there but I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. This is the moment when I felt alive. I looked out and I could see farther than I ever could from on the ground. I had done that thing that I was afraid to do and I felt so proud.
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AuthorMy name is Paige Dinneny. I am a sophomore at Virginia Tech and a first year member of SERVE. Archives
December 2016
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