Just the other day, as the sun warmed my face through the arctic breeze, I experienced this sense of delight that no one could deter. My eyes were mesmerized by the gradient sky, by the setting sun that left my skin with a beautiful golden appearance. This peaceful sensation I felt was one I wanted to share with others. Everything was enchanting, from the birds singing to each other, to the people at the distance enjoying the company of their friends. I could not help but feel what would be best described as sonder, the understanding that every passing being lives a life as vivid and intricate as your own. Such a simple concept, yet difficult to grasp with words. Knowing this makes me feel a part of something greater than myself as if I am a passenger riding on the train of life along with others. This authentic gravitational pull that I feel towards peace does not rid me of the struggles of life, rather it reminds me that at the end of every day, there will always be something to indulge in. How no matter the circumstance, I will always be able to cherish the sun's daily disappearance, and how its incandescent departure will differ from the next. This unspeakably beautiful emotion that I felt at that moment provided much scope for "Bliss", the song I composed using the sweet chords of my ukulele.

Just the other day, as the sun warmed my face through the arctic breeze, I experienced this sense of delight that no one could deter. My eyes were mesmerized by the gradient sky, by the setting sun that left my skin with a beautiful golden appearance. This peaceful sensation I felt was one I wanted to share with others. Everything was enchanting, from the birds singing to each other, to the people at the distance enjoying the company of their friends. I could not help but feel what would be best described as sonder, the understanding that every passing being lives a life as vivid and intricate as your own. Such a simple concept, yet difficult to grasp with words. Knowing this makes me feel a part of something greater than myself as if I am a passenger riding on the train of life along with others. This authentic gravitational pull that I feel towards peace does not rid me of the struggles of life, rather it reminds me that at the end of every day, there will always be something to indulge in. How no matter the circumstance, I will always be able to cherish the sun's daily disappearance, and how its incandescent departure will differ from the next. This unspeakably beautiful emotion that I felt at that moment provided much scope for "Bliss", the song I composed using the sweet chords of my ukulele.

Throughout my school journey at a diverse international school, in which I familiarized myself with rich conversations about global warming, world hunger, and human rights, I learned how my unique experiences will help me ameliorate the future of the world. However, while assessing my place on this earth with my strong interest in medicine, I've come to notice that several acknowledge the urgency of critical dilemmas, but tend to overlook the hidden societal issues. As I carry a great passion for mental health, I believe that our society must recognize the importance of changing the course of history one life at a time, particularly among the youth. As children slowly transition into adulthood, they bear their past experiences and become the upcoming generation to run the world. However, children in orphanages suffer from higher levels of mental health issues and are more susceptible to anxiety and depression given that some of them transfer from one home to another. Moreover, those running the orphanages focus themselves primarily on feeding and clothing these children, all while neglecting the actual mental health status of these orphans living through dehumanizing circumstances at times. By changing the course of their lives beyond the physical front, I am firmly convinced that such impact will carry lasting effects on their outlook on life. If I were a highly influential figure, my goal would be to create a network of physicians from around the world who will partner with orphanages and focus on the aspect of mental health, especially in third world countries.

Word of the Day The cool dripping of the melting popsicle in my small hand did not distract me from being enraptured by the movie airing on the television. However, my mother’s creole interjections certainly startled me, which led me to discover the inadvertent stain that I had created on the sofa. I quickly grabbed a paper towel from the kitchen and started wiping off the stain, though it permeated through the sofa as I kept rubbing it intensely. At the sight of her face, it occurred to me that she was not in fact irritated, but amused by the situation. “Where do you see yourself in five years?”, I heard from the movie on the television echoing behind me. Intrigued by the question, I asked my mother what her response would be. “In life, you always gotta be flexible”, she answered with a nurturing tone in her voice. At that age, I was prompted to add another word to my vocabulary, flexibility. I did not continually abide by the new word I learned. Growing up, I consistently attempted to plan every element of my life. Before going to bed, I would typically plan out my breakfast, lunch, and dinner to the last detail for the next day. My constant planning, a common subject of the ongoing pleasantries exchanged in our family, also made me very reluctant to change in regards to various decisions I had to make, no matter how insignificant. On some occasions, my rigidity worked out for the best when it came to tackling an arduous task, or standing firm in my values. Nevertheless, this singular trait of mine had caused me to be oblivious to the beauty of adaptability. As I grew older, I reflected on the notion of flexibility, particularly after my mother had passed. I recalled the time she was cooking up some crispy griot alongside some fried plantains for me, and I inveighed against the meal having a specific taste dissimilar to the previous time she had made it. Upon my stark criticism, she refuted kindly, “change is never a bad thing, it's just different than before, kaloo”. Even with the departure of my mother, I am still left with her sayings etched in my memory about the significance of being conformable through life’s inconveniences. In addition, the upheaval of COVID-19 changed the world's life cycle, along with mine. The day before the administration announced a presumably two-week leave from school, I recall sitting in our set place in the lunch cafeteria with my friends, the corner near the coffee vending machine. Immediately after we finished eating, we dashed to the soccer field, sat down on the grass under the umbrage provided by the trees, and shared mindless conversations followed by contagious laughter. Needless to say, the pandemic stole these thrills away from me. Nonetheless, being isolated from my friends simply fortified our friendship, as we started to FaceTime every so often. Through this difficult year, my adjustability to the unprecedented circumstances made me realize that certain benefits stemmed from it. Many years later, after leaving an orange popsicle stain on my mother’s favorite white sofa and remembering her utter imperturbability to the situation, I’ve learned to welcome flexibility, a word I feared in the past but now has transformed into my greatest asset. The days seem quite fugacious as they pass by in an instant, and one can never be too sure about what will occur next. I do not dwell on what did not go as planned, still, I do my part and stride blissfully through the sinuous path of life.