Monday, June 19, 2017

Death: just as scary at 82 as at 28

Some people (who are not me) find it hard to be optimistic in the light of recent events. I mean, let's face it, the kinds a stuff coming out of the news these days are just not encouraging. A news outlet, like the one I try to work on, that covers good news and uplifting stories, is struggling more often than not finding things to talk about. But well, I can't help it, I love this particular life right now and want to have the best time with it. When I am then confronted with stories, in which people wake up to be burning alive in their house, I can't help to spend more than my average two minutes on the thought that it could be over any minute. Literally. Nobody is ready for death but would my life be taken too early if I dropped right now? The answer to this question also goes hand in hand with why it's just so important to not think about how to live life all the time.

I am 100% not ready for death. Who is, ever? Yet some people actually do life-threatening things, and I don't mean going to Borough Market on a Saturday Night. I have many friends in the forces, saw this story of a torero today and then, of course, that guy Baumgartner who jumped from space to land in a small net on Earth. So, I can only assume that these people are quite possibly less scared of death than I am. Why, I don't know. Maybe faith. I was less scared of it when I was dead-certain Jesus was waiting for me on the other side. It consoles me knowing that some people who went too early (or even in due time) said goodbye to this life in good faith there's another waiting. But even if there is, my fear of death persists. The next life, if it exists, might not have the sun, or ice cream, or some of the people I love so much. And that would be scary.

Being a pretty brave person, there's not many things that really do scare me, but death is definitely on the list. Everybody has dreams and we all wanna see them come to life before we bow out. Me on the other hand, I wouldn't really know what these dreams are. At some points in life, I thought it'd be procreation, but I am certain now that my life will continue to fulfill me if I don't have children. Getting my PhD won't make a difference over whether I'm gonna die happy or not either. If I died tomorrow, I'd die happy although my dream of being 90 did not come true. And this might be the result of living a life in the smartest way possible. It's smart because it works: I'm happy! It's because, after years and years of working on it, I have stopped expecting, assessing and thinking about what's right. I do what makes me happy at the time in the hope it will continue to make me happy. Nothing probably will. Like myself, the things to make me happy will change, too.

That's why I am looking back at a catalog of decisions I know for a fact other people wouldn't have made. I did wrong things, stupid things, and things that would disappoint people, but in the end, the only judgement I really have to worry about is my own. So if I die tomorrow, and someone else may judge me, I may lose a few points but I made it to this day with, I feel, the best life I could have lived with the cards that were given to me. I was dealt a very fair hand, and I truly believe I couldn't have played it any better. At some points, the cards sucked, of course, but one could argue it just made me a better player. But I did 21 right, I'm doing 28 well, and hopefully, I'll get a few more to try. Fact is, at the end of the day (or all days), I will, whenever it is, have found a way to maximize the time I got.

Of course, if I die now, I won't get to experience parenthood (which is sad), I would never be a dog mamma (which is sad) and it'd just be a pity for all the things I'm no doubt gonna have fun with, but it wouldn't be too early. Because for what was available, the time was used well, and not thinking about the possibility of dying. I don't like to think about what I do; the only thought worth thinking is: will I have that chance again? So my fear of death makes me live the way I do, not thinking about tomorrow, doing whatever I want because it might be the last chance to do any given thing. So far, it's worked out for me. Despite all the weird things I've done, I have no regrets, it all worked out. And when I die, I'm sure it'll be sick, but I hope I can look back and say "way to go, that could have been way worse, Sina!". 

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

100 Days of Cambridge: Love it or Hate it?


"The first 100 days“ is a thing. We all know that. What applies to presidents definitely applies to us normal folk as well. When we embark on a new path, the first 100 days are just as formative as they are in a presidential term. And so, I have now finished my first 100 days in Cambridge. I have relocated enough times to know that sentiments gathered in the initial honeymoon period have a way of corroborating longer into the stay. My first 100 days in Scotland was the happiest time of my life thus far, which ended up being the happiest period of my life all together. In addition, my beginnings in Cairo were the hardest 100 days of my life, equally setting precedents for what would become the most challenging two years of my life for probably the remainder of it. So where does Cambridge, England tie into this? I think I can see a direction… 

100 days were enough to realize that it is not what I had expected. I, of course, didn’t expect Scotland but I did think it would be a bit of a homecoming anyways. At least, I thought, it will be more Scottish than German, and with that I was wrong. England indeed isn’t Scotland and that’s a shame. There are aspects to this that are obviously less dramatic than others are, like the drinking and the lack of acceptable fish & chips in all of Cambridge, but there are the people. And that part is different. The English have a global reputation I would like to dismiss; more often than not, I have found so far, the English really are very polite and proper, but emotionally not very far-ranging. For a person like me, that is a challenge.

Additionally, I expected a student town with lots of public debate, drunk intellectuals and the diversity that comes with a university. Well, not around here. I suppose with a price tag like the one at the University of Cambridge, also known as the finest institution of higher education on this entire continent, sometimes in the world, it is a given that the majority of these kids are born into privilege. They are also overwhelmingly white or Asian. The fact this university has various colleges which equal the likes of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff in the Harry Potter universe, exclusivity is obviously a thing. Whether it’s their fancy dinners they are having in their great halls, wearing dress robes on a weeknight, or a debate about politics, engagement with “the world that is out there” is completely optional and not very encouraged. In that world, the rest of the world likely won’t have to matter anyways.

But now that I’ve pointed out my disappointment, this argument has to take a course. Although these parts of life have panned out differently than expected, the first 100 days have unveiled a large amount of positivity. Sure, the novelty is wearing off, I’m getting more bored by the day, but the prospect of staying here for further hundreds of days is a pleasant one. I was lucky to be spared the fight for friends in a new country once again because enough people I already befriended in the past ended up here or share a kitchen with me. The only downside to the quick but good connections I was able to make is that most of them are linked to another individual as part of a relationship. As a result, even when surrounded by people my age, I sometimes feel a bit old. I consider myself absolutely too young to think about “forever” and am flabbergasted that in this country so many people my age have already committed to it.

The beauty of Cambridge has so many faces, though. Sure, it’s easy to see when walking by the Cam river, watching the rowers coast by meadows hosting cows, or the stunning colleges. For me, however, this experience is so much more. The most beautiful part, to me, is being in my cozy flat, knowing that I am conducting an independent lifestyle free from many of the worries that have at times made my life rather ugly. My achievements, my money, my decisions. And for once I have various freedoms that allow me to make them. Most people my age have the desire to feel satisfied with what they have shaped their life to be, and for me it’s the essence of happiness knowing that the many, many sacrifices I made throughout my life have provided me with a living situation much better than what I even thought possible for a girl like me. Meanwhile, I need the beauty to remind me that I deserve none of this but have to enjoy it while I can. My first 100 days have started to uncover that beauty, and I’m truly curious to see what else surfaces in the coming hundreds…