compare and contrast, the double nature of schedules, attempts at mindfulness, there are so many ways to kiss the ground

Reading over my months of Nepali blog posts I am struck by how radically different my life at Bowdoin is from that environment. No wonder I was so disoriented upon arriving in Kathmandu! Being at college is like running a race in all the different parts of your lifse at the same time- my overachieving productivity-seeking personality can't help but gorge itself on all the incredible stimulations that Bowdoin offers. For example- this semester I'm taking a Telemark ski class every sunday for 6 weeks, begin pottery classes next tuesday, have a full course-load, am tutoring and mentoring junior and high school students...etc. Most Bowdoin students could tell you the exact same story, although thier activities might be a little different the refrain of the song is still the same. The benefits are that I'm rarely bored, constantly gaining new knowledge and skills, and surrounded by wonderful, motivated people. The consequences are that I rarely sleep enough, often get sick and feel overwhelmed, let assignments, bills and occaisionally friendships fall through the cracks, and struggle to defeat my tendancies towards anxiety.
In contrast I look at my life in Sankhu where there was absolutely no need for a Calender Organizer- in fact, i don't think I laid eyes upon such a thing the entire stay in Nepal. I may have, in a burst of habit, brought a small calender with me in which i mapped out broad weeks of my stay, but it was more for a sense of comfort than anything else. While living in the village I routinely slept for 8-11 hours, waking up at 6ish am to read classics in bed, and going to sleep most often before 9 or 10. While I certainly organized the photography program and the logistics of that, I probably spent only 5-6 hours a week on the computer, a rough contrast to Bowdoin where it's likely at least 2 hours a day. Obviously the lifestyle in Nepal also had it's downsides- despite the extra sleep and minimization of future carpal tunnel syndrome. The lack of top-down organization left me floating like a stringless kite. Unused to setting my own destinations I had trouble guiding myself through the days and often felt flaccid, bored and useless.
Looking at these two radically different lives, and what was satisfying and frustrating about both of them, yields some important conclusions: there is a necessary balance to strike for happiness, one which requires free time to contemplate, process and unwind but also time to learn, move, and interact. These two times are best seperated into "To Be" and "To Do". There is no way to permanently fix such a balance- time always creates change around and inside of you, leading you to then create or find a new balance.
What I am trying to remember, and the hardest thing to remember, is to be kind to myself. Navigating such changes and creating a balance will always require mindful attention to my own needs and emotions. This is especially hard in an environment like Bowdoin where the scattered threads of my Calender Organizer often have my shoulders clenched in stress. I just need to remember that 'making myself better'- the self-centered foundation of every college education- will never be satisfying unless I learn to appreciate who and where I am in the present moment.
Recently I became aware that impatience dominates my thirst to learn. I want to know how to craft things (from hard cider to pottery), be able to run farther and faster, to be completely prepared for post-graduation, to finish all of my readings and assignments and to be a good and valued friend. And i want to be able to do all of that right now. A lot to ask from myself, isn't it? But do most people ask much less?
As an illuminating example: I am supposed to be Teleskiing right now. It is the second class of six, but even knowing that I needed to be at the bus at 6:15am I still went to bed at three. I awoke at 7:15 from the sun pouring through my window and realized with a jump that that I had completely missed my opportunity to spend the beautiful day outside with a wonderful group of people. Leaping out of bed I could feel my heart beating with frustration, my cheeks flushed and hot as I stalked around the house, shaking my hands meaninglessly in front of me. Googlemaps informed me that it was a 2.5 hour drive there, easy on the bus when you can sleep with your head pressed against the icey window, much harder with only 4 hours of sleep driving all alone (not to mention the gas money!). In my self-directed anger it took at least 15 minutes to calm down and accept that I wasn't going to go. I tried to convince myself that I had plenty of work and chores to do anyway (true) and that I could still have a lovely day that didn't involve Teleskiing (also true). However, what truely allowed me to move on and leave the anger behind was forgiveness. I am learning to remember that dwelling on regret, on what I should've done or who I should've been in a certain situation, only further removes me from being present NOW and experiencing something new and positive. This is not to say that unpleasant emotions are bad to have- how would I ever learn without being angry, feeling regret or embarrassment? Does a part of me really think that I should be infallible?
With this thought I would like to wrap up this entry of intro-spection and perspective. This poem by Rumi seems most appropriate:

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of it's furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.