university of denver – Page 14

When I was a child, it was always my dream to travel the world. No matter where I went or what I would do, I wanted a career that would allow me to travel and see the places I would read about in novels or see in movies.

Growing up in a small town, you know everything and everyone around you, existing in a tiny bubble of comfort that most people are scared to break. I felt trapped, a caged bird hoping to flap my wings one day as I was meant to do. I wanted to break the bubble, float into the gravity of the unknown and make my own sense of the world. The world’s greatest navigator, neither Don Quixote nor Marco Polo would have anything on me.

Though, now that I am older and am actually experiencing the world, sometimes I find myself wanting to be that small girl again, yearning for her magic carpet to whisk her away and show her a whole new world.

Sometimes, the world isn’t always what it seems. It’s scary; facing the unknown head on is a terrifying experience that many people–myself included–hate doing. As much as I dreaded it, sometimes I wish I was in that small town again, knowing what to do and say and knowing the people around me, protecting myself from the judgement of those who don’t know me.

Growing up is hard. Especially in your 20s. Everyone says your 20s are where you find yourself, but why? Why is there a timetable to self-discovery? I left my hometown to learn more about myself and the world, yet I only have a certain amount of time to do so? So much pressure for someone who has barely lived life.

That girl who wanted to travel is still there; she never quite left. But her dreams became more realistic the older she became. No more flying carpets, Doraemon robots, or fairy dust, but rather an expensive desire in an even more expensive world. Expenses come with age, I’ve found.

There is no denying that I have been having the time of my life here, but there are times where I fear that maybe–just maybe–it will be a waste of time and money. Is that just the ‘low income’ talking? Maybe. But I can never shake off the fear of financial instability.

Being able to study abroad without financial worries because of scholarships has been a blessing, and one I will not take for granted. And yet, I still wish I had it all and nothing all at once. I have always felt imposter syndrome, but I have made a brand new definition here as I learn about all of the things I never knew or never will.

They say your 20s are your time for self exploration, but they are also times of self comparison. I constantly find myself comparing myself to everyone around me; my friends, my peers, strangers. Not only in regard to skills, but with looks, ability to fit in, anything and everything becomes a competition in my mind. I even question if my friends are even actually my friends and are instead simply tolerating me because of these downcast periods.

I know this is unhealthy, but as a first-generation student sometimes I feel as though I am undeserving of my accomplishments, especially if others are better or smarter or have more friends.

These feelings become particularly amplified in a new space, like now. When I do not have the comfort or support system as readily available as I did before, it’s difficult to get out of those ruts whenever they occur. I have been learning how to combat these feelings, but sometimes they overwhelm me and cause long depressive episodes.

I won’t lie to you guys: it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. It has been so exhilarating embracing Japan in all of its glory and all that it has to offer, but even the brightest days become dark and cold. The excitement of having and participating in a new experience forms an all too perfect union with the fear and anxiety of not knowing what to expect. I want to step out of my comfort zone, but my anxiety continuously keeps me in a loop of sticking to the same routine out of a desire for normalcy in a place with so much uncertainty.

Growing up is risky. Being an adult is risky. Learning new things is risky. And, as my therapist would likely tell you, risks are one of the scariest things I face. I’m so afraid of the failure that I end up pausing and, as a result, diminishing myself for the sake of safety.

But risks are okay. I know that. I just have to become okay with it.

Slowly but surely, I have developed my own methods for protecting myself and my mind when I am down in the dumps.

Allow yourself to feel it. You feel as though you are ungrateful for being sad or whatever emotion you are feeling, but emotions are the most human thing we can experience. Regardless of what it may be, being emotional is not a crime. You don’t have to push yourself down when you feel this way, for it is a natural consequence of life and humanity.

Instead, indulge in things you know will distract you or uplift your mood, even slightly. I personally like to go on walks and find a coffee shop to relax, but I also have days where I simply bed rot and doom scroll on TikTok. Both are okay. Your methods of coping are not any less valid if they are less ‘productive’ than someone else’s.

Productivity =/= validity. Who cares if you are laying in your PJs with a pizza and watching a movie if it provides you joy? Most people don’t, and neither should you. Never deny yourself to feel the presence of joy, regardless of how productive it may or may not make you feel.

Studying abroad is both the most memorable experience you will have, and consecutively the scariest. These conflicting things are no doubt going to cause intense emotions, but I am coming to learn that it is okay to feel both.

I came to Japan thinking I would have to improve myself, and I have! There are many aspects of my life that have improved from being here just for the short amount of time that I have.

However, I have come to learn that there are simply some things that are okay just as they are: don’t fix what isn’t broken, for better words.

Take in the view, listen to your mind, and breathe. It is always okay to breathe.

A sparrow in the sakura blossoms, a reminder that Spring is coming; you just have to look up.

–

I got a bit vulnerable today, but if spilling my guts is helpful to even one person, it will have been worth it.

Thank you all for reading, and I will see you in another post!

The “vacation” portion of my study abroad experience has sadly come to an end. I’ve just hit my first week of real classes, and after a not so peaceful course registration, I’m glad it’s over. Before all this, I thought I’d known the true depths of how difficult registration can be. Back at DU, failing to enroll for classes which are vital for your degree happens to almost everyone at least once. But, after having to learn and use multiple different course-lookup software, navigate three separate registration windows, and try my luck on a completely random lottery-based class enrollment system, I now realize that DU isn’t so bad after all. Well, after all of that, and after dropping my Japanese level because I’m not nearly as good as I thought, it’s over. At least it turned out okay. A few of my friends weren’t so lucky and accidentally signed up for classes held at Doshisha University’s other campus, an hour train ride away. No, they aren’t able to fix them. For me, I’m finally in a good position to relax and settle in. With this, the daunting reality of just how long I’ll be here for has been becoming increasingly apparent. Japan will be my home for the next four and a half months, and honestly, it’s scary. I’m the type of person who can never undervalue the importance of comfort. No, I don’t live inside my comfort zone, but when all the fun is over, and it’s time to come back, and it’s just me alone, I want to feel at home. For the past week I’d been feeling more and more uneasy because I wasn’t feeling comfort when I needed it. I felt temporary here, and I started missing my home, an ocean away. But slowly, I started making changes.

I started by buying a bike, which, serendipitously, made me feel better almost immediately. Not only did I get a killer deal, and can race to school blisteringly fast, but I also regained a sorely missed sense of freedom. In Denver, I used to bike everywhere, and it felt good being able to quickly go wherever, whenever. Now, here in Japan, it feels even better. Kyoto is extremely bikeable, and I’ve found a lot of joy in aimlessly wandering around with no real destination in mind. Whenever I start remembering that home is 6,000 miles away, I hop on my bike, and suddenly, it doesn’t feel so far away. But really, how good I started feeling from riding my bike again gave me the idea that I don’t need to miss my home, I can bring it here.

My 35$ bike, which I have since added a basket to

Next, and least excitingly, I changed how I buy groceries. Stay with me now. I promise saving money is cool. Back in Denver, I’d walk into a Safeway with savings on my mind, and B-line it straight for the bargain section. Then, I’d wander around, crouching down and squinting at various price tags, comparing each item’s dollar per ounce value, until BOOM. A deal. I’d walk out of the store with a smile on my face and some extra money in my pocket. Since moving to Japan, I’d been doing all my shopping at convenience stores like 7-Eleven and tiny little markets, where I couldn’t build an understanding of how much something should cost, and what a “good” price even is. It was stressful knowing how much money I wasn’t saving. Having a bike helped with this, as I can now easily get to much larger supermarkets, like the ones in America, where I can penny pinch to my heart’s content. What can I say, I’m a frugal guy.

Wagyu steaks, which I can compare the prices of, if I wanted to

But then, with these extra stacks burning holes in my pockets, I had to find a way to blow all the money I’d just worked so hard to save, and the best way I’ve found to burn money like it’s nothing is to pick up an expensive hobby, and there are few hobbies more expensive than bouldering. For those of you who don’t know, bouldering is basically a more technical version of the climbing wall at your local rec center from when you were a kid, only more pretentious. I used to boulder 3-4 times a week before I came to Japan, and feeling a rocky shaped hole in my heart and a wallet that was just a little too heavy, I had to pick it back up. I’d researched ahead of time what the bouldering scene is like here in Japan, so I knew I was in for a challenge. The specific classifications and difficulty grading scales in Japan are simply brutal, and in the interest of not getting sidetracked, I will now take us off track to explain them in great detail. Bouldering problems are like tiny little puzzles. Constricted to only using certain holds, you must figure out a way to solve the puzzle and climb to the top. Boulder problems are graded using the V Scale, where V0 is the easiest and V17 is basically impossible. V0–V2 is beginner level, V3–V6 is intermediate, V7–V10 is advanced, V11–V13 is pro territory, and V14+ means you’re one of the best in the world, and if you can climb a V17, you’re one of only a few on Earth. A month ago, I was climbing V4s and V5s, which means I was an intermediate level climber, far from the skill ceiling, but a ways away from where I started. However, in Japan, the V Scale has been notoriously pulled back about four stops. Over here, I’m struggling to climb V2s. Among the more advanced climbers, the technical term for struggling on V2s is called being bad at climbing. But, although I’ve been humbled, I’m glad to be back on the wall.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, I’ve started making Matcha tea again. I got really into making Matcha back home, and given that Matcha was invented in Japan, the best Matcha is made in Japan, and that the Matcha capital of the world is only 20 minutes away from me, it was only a matter of time. The only problem with Matcha is that it’s not as simple as steeping a tea bag for two minutes and calling it a day. Matcha is a real man’s tea. It requires elbow grease, finesse, and buying an unreasonable number of supplies just to be able to make it. Surprisingly, despite being in the Matcha capital of the world, reasonably priced supplies are hard to come by. So, penny pinching, I turned to something that we all know and love: Amazon. There’s nothing more comforting than wanting, finding, then having something, all without leaving your house. So, after collecting all the necessary instruments, and using extremely high-quality ceremonial grade Matcha, I finally made my first batch. Expecting something revolutionary, and with prying eyes of various onlookers (making Matcha can create quite a scene in the communal kitchen), I eagerly took my first sip. It was awful. Downright terrible. I had accidently bought what I suspect is called super-diet oat milk, which tasted just like pulverized cardboard. I’ve since bought tastier oat milk, and my Matchas are turning out much better. I’ve been having fun experimenting with different ingredient ratios and techniques, and I plan on taking a Matcha-making class while I’m here, for the ultimate wisdom.

In the end, I realized how important it is to take care of yourself, and listen to your own needs. The person with the ability to make you happier than anyone else is you, so you might as well do it.

In other news, I also took a trip to Osaka with a few friends, and experienced numerous amounts of sweet delights. Here are some photos.