There's a quiet corner of existence where the profound often hides, masquerading as the simple and ordinary. It's in this unassuming realm that I encountered a tulip blooming kit at a Farmers Market on a sunday afternoon – a catalyst that led me down a path of blooming aspirations, much like the stories spun by the enigmatic Haruki Murakami (my favorite author). I want to share this journey with you, to weave the threads of these moments into a tapestry of growth and self-discovery. It all began with those tulips – a delicate promising packaged kit. The way they'd unfurl and flourish for a mere moment in time, caught my attention. Just like their short-lived existence, my dreams seemed transient, often overshadowed by the challenges I faced. Yet, every morning, as the sun brushed against my window, I'd sneak a glance at those tulip bulbs, my silent companion in this journey of growth. You know, applying to college wasn't just about securing an education; it was an assertion of identity. As a young, first-generation black woman, I carried the stories of my heritage, the tales of my grandmother's resilience, and my mother's sacrifices. I remember staring at those tulip bulbs, and I'd think about the hardships they must have faced buried under the soil. But there they were, breaking through the earth to greet the world with their colors. In the same way, I labored over applications, determined to break through the limitations that society imposed on me. Then came the driving lessons – a clumsy dance with gears and pedals. On the very first day, my nerves got the best of me, and I cried in front of the instructor. The weight of my self-imposed pressure to assist my mother, ensuring she wouldn't have to close her business to shuttle my siblings back and forth to school, had me overwhelmed to say the least. However, I realized that just like those tulips couldn't burst forth in full bloom the moment they hit the dirt, I too couldn't expect to be perfect from the get-go. Each turn of the wheel was a metaphor for embracing growth, for learning that it's okay to stumble as long as I kept moving forward. I saw my progress mirrored in the tulips, their gradual unfurling a reminder that beauty takes time. Oh, and my first job – that was a plunge into icy waters. Working as a medical scribe in the emergency department demanded communication, something that had always been my Achilles' heel. But I faced it head-on. I knew that I needed to nurture my own communication skills, to shine light on the connections I could forge.To shape myself into this envisioned individual, I understood the importance of immersing myself in an environment that demanded a daily exercise of communication. This environment not only provided me the platform to hone my skills but also surrounded me with professionals who personified the very ideals I aimed to embody – doctors who went beyond medical expertise, offering solace and emotional connection to truly aid those in need. As I sit here, penning down my thoughts, I realize that each of these moments – the tulips, the college applications, the driving lessons, the job – they've all been steps towards embracing growth. They've whispered stories of endurance and promise, much like the tulips that brought fleeting beauty into my life.