Dariya Makhova

Passion. It does have a place in the hierarchy of life.

I’m used to separating passion with things I must do. There’s  debt I must repay, and that is something I have to do. Everything else is just details. Things are rarely that simple. Even subconsciously we strive towards the things we fever for. It takes effort and a step beyond ourselves to realize that.

I won’t claim that the Community Service Project made a huge change in my persona, but it has dawned realization. Though the extent to which I utilized the expertise and staff is questionable, the knowledge that they were there was undoubtedly comforting. it’s a sort of a safety net that we’d all like to have. A safe button before the big bad boss.

With a hint of whimsy, I will claim the honors study lounge a support center that I’ve utilized.  The haven just beyond the intrepid staircase of the harrowing steps. Yes I’m making it as blunt as paper that I’ve  graciously tripped many many times. The twin tables that hold the commerce of knowledge. The glass opening to the story of the lone anemic tree and the fire escape ladder whose steps look safer than the intrepid staircase of the harrowing steps. These are the stipulations one must face when  utilizing the honors study lounge.

Though the stipulations seem daunting, the bounty is plentiful, Having a variety of beautiful minds in one room creates the cynosure of student life. I will take a moment to describe a personal pet peeve of mine. The saying, ” all great minds think alike.” It makes me implode. Majority does not imply perfection. Yet we ask ourselves where peer pressure begins.  Back to the cynosure. It’s a source of knowledge, discovery, and dallying. All aspects an idealist champion can splendor.

As I’ve mentioned before, looking to the future is not a talent I’ve mastered. Too many possibilities. Too many expectations. As organized and structured as i can attempt to be, I will always and undoubtedly fail. Whether that’s a hinderance or an opportunity is another question. I find solace in the realm of the unknown. Naive for sure, but I see endless opportunity. I will put the knowledge of these resources in my survival pack.

I will also include a can of passion in that survival pack. It’ll serve as an epitaph to the one that came before the idealistic champion. Through my participation in the project, I’ve discovered that passion finds us consciously and subconsciously .Partnerships for Parks started out as a plea for manual labor, but it uprooted a distant memories. I will avoid personal sentiments and focus on the park where I thrived as a child. It was a terrain that held adventure and mystery. In going from where the sun ross to where it set meant going from the the top created from gravel to the watery bottom that nearly claimed an idealistic champion. Let’s quiet the memories and decipher what they mean. The park that alongside my parents raised me left a seed of appreciation in me. Parks are a neutral ground. Take Madison Square Park for instance. The benches are shared by the suits and the parents, the young and the old, the financially fit and the not so very. It’s a modern garden of eden where a deep breath and a tilt of the neck can do wonders. I lost the passion in the requirements for education, but am slowly embracing them once more.

A to fin, food for thought to indulge.

Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself

Leo Tolstoy

I have not found my role. To make a whimsical reference to theater, I am auditioning. I know what is expected of me. I have the script. I have yet to make it my own. It’s a hurdle.  It’s a mix of little eccentricities that create the perfect storm.  Everyone takes change differently, and I apparently don’t do well at all.

According to the Myer Briggs personality assessment, I am an ENFP. (Champion). Why would I take such a test? A test may come up once or twice in a lifetime, but I hear about it repeatedly. So I decide to succumb to coincidence and take the test. If you take anything away from this reading, please do remember that to confuse coincidence with fate or signs is to confuse flour with asbestos.  Don’t do it.

While I doubt the validity of the test, I can certainly go for the role of an idealist champion.  I’ll take the liberty to pat myself on the back and go as far as say that I have the gusto, the knack, and the pure Dariya-ness that is necessary for an idealist champion.  What it comes down to is execution. It’s easy to be a beautiful mind. Being able to think means nothing without contribution.  As the good ol’ Russian proverb goes, Аво́сь да как-нибу́дь до добра́ не доведу́т.

What will the idealist champion contribute? Joviality maybe. An interesting dinner conversation for sure. Something that will change the Baruch script as we know it? Maybe.  Too many questions and too many possibilities, which call for action! So stay tuned and take notes. This will be epic.