Transmission by Transformation

Inspired by Marina’s essay, I decided to compose a collage text using lines of her essay (in italics) and interspersing my own words and thoughts.

A great disadvantage of the English language is its inability to name some of the most beautiful feelings in life. As an avid “wordie” (like “foodie,” but for words), I love perusing books and websites to find the words that English fails to describe. The opposite of loneliness is one of those feelings.

We don’t have a word for a feeling that is elusive, hard to pin down. It shows its face differently in the life of each person. But we know it when we feel it. I’m grateful and thankful to have found the opposite of loneliness at times throughout my life. It’s not quite love and it’s not quite community – the opposite of loneliness is some indefinable combination of the feelings of heart-fullness and safety and comfort that arise from being surrounded by an abundance of people who care, who support, who love.

That’s what I want in life.

…

In college, we pull tiny circles around ourselves – friend groups, clubs, service organizations, House communities – all of these help us build up tiny new families in a very unfamiliar place. In them, we feel loved and safe and part of something, even on our loneliest nights.

I’ve learned that it takes time to create another home. From our origin place we bring mementos: Soft blankets and underlined books, hour-printed photos, and bits of where I came from lie scattered around, in places where I see them and remember the people who know me truly and deeply. The people I think of are also scattered; like me, they are arranging mementos of their former selves and finding ways to keep them close while simultaneously moving away.

With time, I’ve made new memories like the old. Memories that swell with the opposite of loneliness. Though it’s hard to pin down with the English language, we know it when we feel it.

These memories are part of us. When I feel scared of losing the feeling of the opposite of loneliness – when life feels impossible or when loneliness threatens to return – I hold onto the memories that bring joy to my life. Here, on this campus. With these people. Away from home, yet constantly constructing another one here.

…

We’re so young. We have so much time. I feel an immense and indefinable potential energy when I am surrounded by the people who make Harvard home for me. This, too, is a feeling that lacks a name. What can we call the experience of being filled with such energy and potential? It’s not quite hope and it’s not quite joy, it’s just this feeling that there are people around you, encouraging you, supporting you, reminding you of who you are and what you are capable of doing. People who have your back.

I hold onto these feelings even as the languages I know can’t quite pin them down. I feel, right now, the opposite of loneliness. The undefinable potential energy. I have laid the foundation of my home with the ones I know I can always rely on, ones who love me and care for me in tangible and intangible ways. With each memory, we add another brick or window-frame. And here, now, on this campus in Fall 2019, I hold onto the immeasurable hope that I will keep finding the people to expand my home at Harvard.