Cheryl Joseph

World Literature

December 13, 2005

Stand Outside of the Person Standing Outside Yourself and Write What You See

            When I was younger, I used to think of the world as God’s body.  Each person lived in a different part of the body as she progressed through life, and natural disasters were just products of the body’s systems.  I imagined that I could look at God from above and see all of the people interacting and living.  As I began reflecting on my first semester of college, this type of self-reflection came to mind.  Similar to how I viewed the complexity of God and the world from above, when I fly above myself I see my particularities, goals and obsessions mingling and mixing to form a unique combination of ambitions, habits, and tendencies. 

I begin my flight in March of last year, the point when our E603A class first touched me.  As I look down, I see a person immersed in an obsession over grades and competition, a desire to be number one, to be the best.  I am torn between my social life, my boyfriend, my debate successes, my treasure of literature, and my love for math.  Confused about how to balance my desire to crunch numbers and my desire to just read, I have no idea where I want to go to college.  College brochures are swirling in my eyes that are already filled with tears from being rejected by Yale University, my dream school.  I am on the verge of a burnout.  I feel like I am too boring or too common.  If only I was a more creative writer or lived a more daring life, then Yale would find me interesting.

Time is now progressing.  I am still flying, but what I am looking at is changing.  I look down and see myself visiting Plan II.  As soon as I read the syllabuses for E603A, I know something about this program is different from the other schools I have been visiting.  The syllabus for Professor Bump’s class stands out to me.  The concept of learning from nature interests me.  I can only imagine how much I still have to learn from nature and man’s coexistence, the coexistence of a bench and nature.  I sense that the class would challenge me to use a different part of my brain than the part I typically use.  I sense that my heart beating faster as I continue to watch my visit to Plan II; my mind is getting excited. 

I continue flying until I see myself in the midst of making my college decision.  My mind and heart are literally torn between Northwestern University and the University of Texas.  Do I want to stay in Austin for college or do I want to go to Chicago?  What will set me free? 

My flight now takes me to the University of Texas.  I see myself lying in bed after my first World Literature class.  I am confused and scared.  There is fear in my eyes as I worry that I will not be able to succeed in this new environment; for the first time, I might fail.  I realize that I might not be prepared for college.  I have no idea how to take notes without writing down too much information, and in comparison to my classmates’ writing, mine seems dull and boring.  In class, I heard the students around me discuss literature they had read recently, and I realized that my ability to build connections between literature, as well as my ability to participate in conversations, is lacking.  When we sit in a circle for discussions, I sometimes do not know what to say.  I do not have all of the answers.  I cannot do everything.  I can almost see my heart aching as I think of how hard it has been to make friends.  I am curled in a ball, an indication of my introverted personality.  I can see the orange earplug in my right ear.  I do not like the noise of college; it is a distraction.  I still feel confined to be the same person I was in high school, but my sense of being as the smart, nice friend is being challenged as I am immersed in a program full of brilliantly talented people.  I feel lost.

Suddenly, I am whirling through time, and I find myself flying over my body during the middle of the semester.  I am walking through the Taniguchi Oriental Garden.  As I fly above, I can tell by the look in my eyes and by my posture that I love the place.  My body language communicates that these nature-based excursions help me to develop the creative side of my personality.  My body seems to be at peace; I am learning to relax in nature.  I am climbing over a bridge, representing the journey I am experiencing each day in college.  The nature around me is peaceful and provides the perfect setting for my journey.  The bridge provides a means for transforming me, similar to the role meditation is beginning to play in my life, while the water under the bridge provides a reason for the journey; the bridge is the only way I will be able to get across the water.  The huge trees remind me that nature, like me, is a continuous story.  Each day, we slowly continue growing.  I am observing the Philosophers’ Rock outside of Barton Springs, and I am learning from the sculpture.  I now realize why I was so intent on finding a school where I felt free.  College is a time when we are able to acknowledge that

“behind all these identities is a state of awareness that incorporates them all and yet is still able to rest behind them.  As we loosen the hold of each identity so that we don’t get completely lost in it, we are able to remain light and lose—able to play among these various aspects of being without identifying exclusively with any.  We don’t have to be ‘this’ or ‘that.  We are simply free to be” (155). 

I am learning to be myself and to let each part of myself shine.  As my classmates and I participate in this journey together, we discuss the opinions that we develop within ourselves in the presence of nature.  By talking to my classmates, I realize that in high school, I was on the verge of a burnout based on the idea that “seeds of burnout are often sown in how we enter into the helping act and in what we bring with us—our motives, our needs, our expectations, the models we have for ourselves…the inner conflict between head and heart awakened by the helping act itself…produces toxins of fatigue and emotional confusion” (160).  When I compare my high school experiences with those of my classmates, I realize that the person I flew over moments ago was torn between motives.  I felt that I had to succeed to get into a good college, a motivation that gave way to burnout.  In college, I want to find a higher purpose.

I continue flying, and I find myself in the present at the end of my first semester of college.  I see a different person than the person I saw at the beginning of my journey.  Through my nature excursions, I have found meditation as a way to calm my feelings, and my ability to meditate has progressed.  I can now let a leaf flow by without having it distract me.  Meditation allows me to seek the truth by removing myself from my blurry thoughts.  After all, “the process of witnessing is dispassionate.  It’s not committed to one result or another; it’s open to everything…As the Tao Te Ching says, ‘The truth waits for eyes unclouded by longing’” (156).  My ability to reflect in nature has allowed me to meet a goal I set out for myself at the beginning of the course: to establish a sense of place at the University of Texas.

I also notice a difference in the way I view myself.  My participation in World Literature has led to me to recognize not only the various attributes of myself, but also the varying capacities of my mind.  I now realize that “because the mind’s capacity to think is so brilliant, [I] tend to be dazzled by it and fail to notice other attributes and functions.  There is more to the mind than reason alone.  There is awareness itself and what we sometimes think of as the deeper qualities of mind” (157).  I have learned to not give all of my attention to one part of my mind.  This idea is reflected by the in-class writings I have completed, such as the one at the Harry Ransom Center.  In the picture, I am learning to relax and let go of the rational side of my brain as I let my thoughts flow out onto paper with my classmates surrounding me.  I am blocking out the distractions of my classmates looking around or procrastinating.  I am focusing all of my energy onto my writing.  I am recognizing that my brain can provide rational faculties, such as those needed to compose a structured essay, while also providing more free-flowing faculties, such as those needed to write freely about any topic.  I am better-rounded than I was in August.  I have learned that highlighting in the book allows me to pick out the important information for notes, as opposed to trying to organize the information in outlines, and I have grown in my abilities as both a writer and a classmate.  I am becoming more comfortable with creative writing as I try to let go of the left-side of my brain, and I am beginning to feel at-ease participating in class discussions and offering criticism on the discussion board.  Whereas I used to be afraid of sharing my opinions, I am learning that my opinions and experiences are valued and desired by others.  This acceptance of criticism has made me better at building bridges between literary works and real life.  I am able to test out ideas and theories amidst classmates who are willing to offer their input.  I have also established a sense of direction in my life.  By completing my Road Map, I have reflected on where I have been and where I am going.

            As I fly over myself at various times during my journey towards self-awareness, I realize what parts of this course have helped to transform me.  The nature excursions have lightened my mood and taught me to appreciate every aspect of the world from the tiny bugs to the gurgling waterfalls to the soft dirt.  The Alice Day took me back to my childhood.  It reminded me that intellectual development and fun do not necessarily constitute deep discussions or difficult literature, but instead I can learn from a child, and I can have fun with crayons, paper, and play dough.  I wish I could have interacted with children more this semester.  My dorm, Scottish Rite, holds a Halloween Day the Friday before Halloween where preschoolers come to eat a festive lunch and trick-or-treat through the halls.  Perhaps Professor Bump could incorporate something like this into the course through community involvement that takes us back to our childhood roots.  The journals have also been beneficial by giving me a way of expressing my reactions to the readings.  I, however, with there was more commenting on informal writing based on the ideas expressed in the writing.  I also want to do more excursions similar to the class we spent at the Harry Ransom Center.  I think this time combined in-class writing and exploration in a way that allowed us to discover new parts of ourselves and our classmates.

            After evaluating my progress in this course, I believe I will earn an A at the end of the semester.  I am only about 40 points away from an A right now, and the Learning Record Final, Portfolio, and P2B will hopefully boost my grade.  Evident in my reflection of semester, I have made progress toward the course goals of establishing a sense of place, identity, and purpose.