Auld Lang Syne

As the holiday season approaches, I find myself thinking about how fast the year has gone by. Instead of worrying about all the things I've yet to accomplish and dreading the increasingly quick passing of years, I like reflecting on where I was last year.

The thing that stands out the most from this time last year is how stressed out I was. I was practically pulling my hair out. I can't say that I feel much different this year. Maybe next year I'll finally realize that procrastination doesn't pay off--especially when said procrastinator doesn't work well under pressure. Is this a New Year's resolution in the making?

Last year I was having problems coping with the absence of my mom. It was my first year away from home, and I felt like I needed her to guide me. I wanted her to point me in the right direction, and I couldn't help wondering if things would be easier were she still alive. This year I've felt comfortable being my own guide. Isn't self-sufficiency what growing up is all about?

This time last year I was struggling to let go of someone I'd once loved. This year I've experienced love again.

I believe that most changes that come our way are for meant for the better. The past year has been full of changes, and I'm glad I embraced (or struggled through) all of them. I have high hopes for the year 2010. My biggest hope for 2010 is for my relationships. I want to bring myself to forgive my dad, want to help my best friend through her impending breakup, want my relationship to thrive, and I want my relationship with myself to remain stable.

New Year's may just be an annual party night for most people, but I'm content staying home and thinking about all the past New Year's that have lead up to this one. This will be my twentieth year of life, and I couldn't feel more grateful.

Awakenings

I truly believe that film can depict the seriousness and emotional gravity of medical ethics even better than a scholarly article. Even stories about animal experimentation make me cringe, but to actually see a human who has undergone some type of medical experimentation. . . it's a bit more harrowing. I think this is one of the strong points of film--it's visual aspect. The audience can connect with the actor on the screen, even if he's just an actor.

The movie Awakenings gets me every time. Here's this catatonic man who has no idea 30 years of his life have passed. Enter the hopeful doctor who wants to help his catatonic patients. Throw in the drug L-Dopa and you get a terribly heart-wrenching movie. What would it be like to wake up one day and see that you've aged 30 years overnight? Leonard handles it quite well in the movie. But what if you're more like one of the other patients in the ward? What if you're wife is dead? Your son is missing? I think I'd feel hostile and "swindled," as the man in the movie puts it.

Maybe you'd be like Leonard. You'd wade into the ocean with all your clothes on, you'd go dancing, fall in love for the first time. But then you'd notice that you have a tick. Eventually your head will thrash uncontrollably from side to side. You'll realize that the drug isn't working anymore, and you'll be afraid to close your eyes at night for fear of slipping back into catatonia. Is it worth it? I guess only people like Leonard can know.