Yesterday I received my official certificate for my postgraduate diploma from University College London: the finish line has been officially crossed. Time flies. It's been a month since departing from my life abroad. A lot has happened, but at the same time not much has changed.
London was the first time in my life where I felt like I was balanced. I didn't have to focus on just studying, just developing my personal interests, just taking care of my health, just socialising, just contributing to society, or just expanding my career. I could do it all in one year: graduating with a distinction from my postgraduate diploma; reconnecting with dance through new dance styles (street dance, bachata and salsa); reaching a new running milestone of 18 km; having the best food adventures with cousins, classmates and friends; raising my voice for the climate through student action; doing a summer internship in London whilst juggling with master thesis proposals for an Autumn start. Of course there were things I had to give up on too, but generally speaking London was a place where I felt like I belonged: chaotic, diverse and full of agency. It felt like one of the most wholesome experiences of my life, even though it was also a challenge and at times even confusing or misleading.
However, sometimes things have to fall apart to fall in place again, and only after divergence does convergence occur. And thus, I feel both expansive and focused right now. I have come to realise that nothing has to clash, even though not everything always has to happen in parallel either. Some experiences in life are not always perfectly in sync but they can happen at the same time, just in different frequencies.
My passion for sustainability has grown tremendously this year and it has made me confident that that's what I want to dedicate my career to. This however doesn't mean I need to let go of my original passion: becoming a mental health advocate. One of my "dreams-before-30" is to run a marathon for a mental health charity. Two days ago, I was already halfway through: running my first half marathon. I ended up last, but that's okay because I know I've always been a couch potato and I am proud of trying. When I reached about 17/21 km, I was thinking to myself: if I do manage to finish this half marathon, it would mean more to me than graduating from UCL. It did, although my legs don't agree. Running has always been my way of proving to myself that the mind is stronger than the body; that it does not matter how long I'm taking as long as I enjoy the journey and manage to reach my goal by the end; that it's important to listen to my body, but also that pushing myself does not have to go against that.
My second dream is to publish my own poetry book. Even though I did pull together an unpublished 20-page manuscript once (called The Identity Factory), I feel like my perspective on what being a poet means to me has changed. It always used to be about myself: expressing myself with authenticity yet hiding through enough symbolic dignity. I want to be more than that though. It ties back to wanting to become a mental health advocate. I know that sharing personal struggles helps make people feel less alone: that's how I survived mostly during my younger years, listening to artists and reading poetic works that made me relate. It's however easy to stay in a downward spiral that way. As a poet, I would like to be more inspiring and uplifting without losing my authenticity. It is a hard balance to strike, not just as a poet but as a person. It's something I hope to develop further as I grow older, and hopefully by then, I can publish a poetry book that's both meaningful for me and others.
Some may say that I want too much out of life. For a long time I would bash myself for not ever being grateful, for always looking for that 'next big thing', preparing myself for the next marathon so to speak. There is still my master's degree to finish which is my main priority right now. But dreams are what keep me alive, and they are only fuelled by action.
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