Wu-Wei

Last night I went to yet another fabulous Fulbright party hosted by the incredible Dr. H (just being in the same room as her is inspiring). I am a lucky kid to be a part of such an invigorating group of intellectuals. The evening's host was Jose Cabrera and his lovely wife, and fellow aspiring Fulbright like myself, Naomi. Over a communal dinner of falafels and hummus, he shared his story via slide show of his year long art therapy based initiative in a small town in Mexico called Queretaro.

As the evening progressed we began sharing our own personal experience of the application process with the interested few. My life's taken so many wonderful and expected turns since then, but I wanted to take a moment to remember that adventure. I have been fortunate enough to have several moments in my life where I felt anything was possible and the Fulbright process was one of the best ones.

...

Being the spirited little go-getter that I was three years ago (and still am now) I marched right into my university's Fulbright counselor's office and planted myself on her couch. "Hi, My name is L---- and I want to do a Fulbright!"

I had next to no idea what I was doing or what a Fulbright meant or where to even start. I don't even think I had a project idea yet, but I just knew I had to have one! Three countries and many more ideas worth of research later I had finally found my destination: Mongolia. After having enthusiastically completed my studies in photography, art of Zen, and Buddhism I constructed my proposal (see next entry). Then an extraordinary thing happened...

After an exhaustive 11 months I had come up with a project summary, personal statement, several institute affiliations, a language requisition, 2 peace corps and 1 Fulbright contact in Mongolia. Communicating with people who have intermittent internet access and a limited knowledge of English on the other side of the planet was an accomplishment in and of itself. But as that finish line approached, and even though I received such positive and encouraging feedback from my letter writers and Dr. H, something had changed. I had changed. I realized something invaluable, something profound and world changing.

I realized I was going to be a doctor.

It was through that long, arduous, and completely self motivated process that I found my path to the most splendid future I could dream for myself.

With much deliberation and meditation I finally met with Dr H to confess my discovery. To my surprise she was the farthest thing from upset or frustrated, despite having put in such effort and time on my behalf. When I told her I had decided not to submit my application but to instead enroll in two years of post-bac classes so I may apply to medical school, she gave me a hug and cheered and was more excited than even I was at the time.

Fast forward three years, here I am sitting by the phone waiting to hear back from a perfect fit medical school after having completely rocked the socks off my interview. I can't wait for whatever adventures are coming next. Having gone through the Fulbright, having completed my solo shows, having not only finished but excelled in my post-bac curriculum, having earned a medical school interview.... not only do I believe I can do anything, I have the empirical evidence to prove it! :) So to that guy in the science building hallway three years ago when I was signing up for classes who told me that I must be dumb as rocks because I chose to get my bachelors in art.... BITE ME.

:)