Inception

When I was in seventh grade, my family and I had returned from a trip to India. School was starting within the next week, and we were getting ready to end the summer. I vividly remember walking to the couch across from the piano in tears. My chest was in so much pain. There was a heavy sort of weight that was preventing me from taking deep breaths and my hands were shaking. Why do I feel this way? Am I having a heart attack? But I didn’t tell my mom just yet. I didn’t want her to worry especially with the school year starting, so I ignored the pain and turned on my side. That was the first mistake. Going into seventh grade, I felt the workload hit me, and I would often wonder about students who managed to finish their work on the bus ride home and then play for the rest of the night. I didn’t grasp the materials and stayed up late reading my textbook and class notes, but that weight on my chest never left. One day I couldn’t get out of bed before school. The pain was horrible and I felt utterly hopeless. My mom came in and told me enough was enough, that she had noticed something was wrong, and that we were going to the doctor. Upon check up, they told me I had anxiety induced asthma, and that my panic attacks were causing me to have trouble breathing. My mom cried. But I just heard “why” repeat over and over again in my head. Everyone was working hard, so I didn’t understand why I was having so much trouble. Why? Why? Why?… Why. That was it. I was so afraid of the outcome, the grade on the test, the end of the presentation, that I forgot to revel in the journey that led me there. My inquisitiveness opened doors while studying in which I was able to grasp multiple perspectives on a concept. “Why” doesn’t have to be something we fear or picture as unanswerable. Why is the journey, regardless of the outcome? Why is the fundamental part of learning. And I strive now to picture my goals as “why” and enjoy the path that leads me to where I’m meant to be. 

 I created a blog called “What’s that in the sky” because my curiosity has led to the clouds, which are always changing. One moment it's a fairy dancing in the rain, and the next it's a demon trying to find Lilith. There is no truth, just pure thoughts. My blog is a manifestation of this pure subconscious mind, and I write about my struggle with mood swings, dream interpretations, mental illness in film, poetry, the art of obsession, song lyrics and quotes that I can’t stop thinking about. Furthermore, I’ve noticed that introspective self growth is only possible when one asks herself a series of questions. Why don’t you enjoy Kathak class? What is it about music that makes you genuinely feel good? Why am I not doing as well in this physics class? How many hours of sleep am I getting? In asking myself, rather than having a simple inner monologue, I’ve been able to learn about my own behavior, and how to reach a state of mind that truly benefits my goals and aspirations. Perhaps my love for curiosity was inspired by Alice in Wonderland. I truly relate to her because she literally created a maladaptive world out of her inquisitiveness, and it led her to a world of her own pure creation. Asking questions is the first step to learning, and I feel like oftentimes curiosity is viewed as childish or dangerous when people say “curiosity killed the cat” but I think the potential of discovering an idea, witnessing the inception of a concept is worth the risk.