Life is very full. Even in the quiet moments, like this overcast Sunday morning, it feels saturated with goodness. To reflect on the elements of that goodness--to unpack the saturation--is a daunting task. So I shall begin with a calendar review--a chronicle as much for my future self as for my friends and family who are wondering where I've been all this time.
July
Shortly after standing next to Kathleen and Austin in their glorious celebration of life and love, I returned to Washington only to discover that someone had stolen my laptop and jewelry out of my apartment. It was a final straw in what had been a difficult chapter at this particular residence. Despondent, I struggled to find solace in the Buddhist practice. Release attachment to material things. Move forward, embracing the empty space that the stolen goods left as an opportunity to fill my life with positive energy. In a matter of days, I would be moving to a new address with a new roommate. A new chapter. And thus began one of the most fulfilling, exciting, and exhausting periods of my life.
Earlier in the Spring, my boss asked me to take the lead on a new White House initiative, the Open Government Partnership (more on that later). On July 12, just two weeks into my new chapter, Secretary Clinton asked for my opinion on why the initiative had brought so many high-level foreign officials to Washington. After stumbling over a response, she agreed with my half-formed thought, and thanked me for my leadership in making it happen. As she took the stage, I beamed, the affect of a sincere cycle of gratitude--hers and mine--filling my tired spirit.
Two days later, my sister and nephews arrived in Washington for 72 hours of nonstop museums, exploring, and joy. It was a weekend filled with pride--of my beautiful city, of my sister--the mother and teacher--and of my nephews, who are growing up to be such smart and adventurous men. As they drove South to visit Meme and Captain, I flew West to celebrate the birthday of a dear friend. One day of drinking wine in Napa and I realized I had succeeded in filling the void left by the thief just one month earlier. The empty space was filled with California sunshine.
August
The very notion of thinking about the future is against my nature. I pride myself on living in the moment, fully and freely. I find it neither productive nor effective to imagine what I might be doing in one, two, or five years. I am going to be my best self now and hope that every moment at my best will lead to the best next moment possible. This is my reality: all that is within my control is in the now; what happens next is largely beyond my manipulation or design.
Unfortunately, there are some facets of life that necessitate a departure from this reality. One of those facets is grad school applications. Woe is me.
I have known that I wanted a graduate degree since before I graduated from college. It seemed an almost obvious characteristic of my fully-developed self. After three years of working in microfinance, I was drawn to the path of a MBA, recognizing the power of business to do good in the world. I signed up for a GMAT class and quickly defeated my own best intentions by never cracking a study guide or taking the test. That was 2007.
Four years later, my age had snuck up on me. At 28 going on 29, I would be at the upper end of my MBA peers in the Fall of 2012. Despite loving my job, with zero interest in thinking about a future without it, the time had come to get serious about my graduate education. And that meant...studying math.
Ergo, August became my month of the GMAT. It was not my best month.
September
September seems to be an auspicious month for me. In 2008, it was the launch of the Center for Financial Inclusion, a proud moment for our founding team of seven dedicated people; it was also the month that Maria Otero asked me to work for her--clearly a pivotal moment in my career. In 2009, it was my transition from ACCION to the State Department. In 2010, it was my life-changing spiritual pilgrimage to Bhutan, and Secretary Clinton's first speech on financial inclusion--a personal highlight from my many months of bringing the issue into State's foreign policy thinking. And in 2011, it was the launch of the Open Government Partnership, an initiative that had quickly--and somewhat unadvisedly--become my reason for living.
On September 20, I stood in a small circle with President Obama just before he walked into a room of 46 world leaders to launch the project that I had been leading for the United States government. I hadn't slept in five days. Standing next to a dear friend (who heroically produced this video for the White House at my supplication), I felt as if I was standing on the furthest edge of reality. One step further, and I would have been dreaming. The next day, our launch was on the cover of the Wall Street Journal. I hadn't been dreaming at all.
October
After the launch of OGP, all I wanted to do was sleep. If I did nothing else with my career, I would have contributed enough to the world and could retire happy. But it was not to be. Begrudgingly, October marked the beginning of the dreadful b-school application process. As a writer, I thought I might actually enjoy the essay-writing process. I was wrong. Five schools, with an average of four distinct essays each. The questions ranged from esoteric to exact, all of which I found exceedingly difficult to answer.
November
A month that began in London with an evening at #10 Downing Street is a much-needed time of rejuvenation and reconnecting with life outside of work. (even while at work, I behave as the seasoned diplomat I am: at Number 10, replicating Hugh Grant's dance down the yellow stairwell in Love Actually. Obviously.)
Back in the States, I have the honor of speaking (and singing) in the wedding of two beloved friends. I begin to feel balance coming back to my life, finally recovering from the exhaustion of the Fall, in the company of friends who remind me of the important things in life.
Later in the month, Mom and I travel to Mexico for the wedding of another dear friend, stopping at the ancient Mayan city of Chichen Itza. Just over a year after our journey to Bhutan, I relish in the revitalizing company of my mother--a personal anchor of balance and energy in her own all-too-full life.
December
Another friend ties the knot in a beautiful South Carolina lowcountry setting. It is a timely reminder of my roots--in both place and love. The next day, I fly to Brasilia, Brazil for a meeting of the Open Government Partnership--individuals from 46 countries who--by their presence and commitment--provide a collective shock to my system. The shock in this: holy $h!#, this thing we started is, like, way bigger than us now. Whoah. We might really be changing the world.
My first time in the giant country (that borders more countries than any other in the world!), I try my hand at Portuguese. Brazilian colleagues laugh and speak to me in English instead. I take the hint.
I am on the tarmac in Sao Paolo when I get the news. Tulane's Freeman School of Business has offered me a full scholarship. The person sitting next to me is more than a little taken aback when I turn to him with a giant bear hug. Even if this is the only acceptance I receive, I am going to business school!
On my way home, I realized I've achieved a personal milestone beyond just getting into a great MBA program. I've managed to live in the present while planning for the future. Though...given my experience taking the GMAT...I would not recommend it. Ultimately, I much prefer the present-only approach to living.
July
Shortly after standing next to Kathleen and Austin in their glorious celebration of life and love, I returned to Washington only to discover that someone had stolen my laptop and jewelry out of my apartment. It was a final straw in what had been a difficult chapter at this particular residence. Despondent, I struggled to find solace in the Buddhist practice. Release attachment to material things. Move forward, embracing the empty space that the stolen goods left as an opportunity to fill my life with positive energy. In a matter of days, I would be moving to a new address with a new roommate. A new chapter. And thus began one of the most fulfilling, exciting, and exhausting periods of my life.
Earlier in the Spring, my boss asked me to take the lead on a new White House initiative, the Open Government Partnership (more on that later). On July 12, just two weeks into my new chapter, Secretary Clinton asked for my opinion on why the initiative had brought so many high-level foreign officials to Washington. After stumbling over a response, she agreed with my half-formed thought, and thanked me for my leadership in making it happen. As she took the stage, I beamed, the affect of a sincere cycle of gratitude--hers and mine--filling my tired spirit.
Two days later, my sister and nephews arrived in Washington for 72 hours of nonstop museums, exploring, and joy. It was a weekend filled with pride--of my beautiful city, of my sister--the mother and teacher--and of my nephews, who are growing up to be such smart and adventurous men. As they drove South to visit Meme and Captain, I flew West to celebrate the birthday of a dear friend. One day of drinking wine in Napa and I realized I had succeeded in filling the void left by the thief just one month earlier. The empty space was filled with California sunshine.
August
The very notion of thinking about the future is against my nature. I pride myself on living in the moment, fully and freely. I find it neither productive nor effective to imagine what I might be doing in one, two, or five years. I am going to be my best self now and hope that every moment at my best will lead to the best next moment possible. This is my reality: all that is within my control is in the now; what happens next is largely beyond my manipulation or design.
Unfortunately, there are some facets of life that necessitate a departure from this reality. One of those facets is grad school applications. Woe is me.
I have known that I wanted a graduate degree since before I graduated from college. It seemed an almost obvious characteristic of my fully-developed self. After three years of working in microfinance, I was drawn to the path of a MBA, recognizing the power of business to do good in the world. I signed up for a GMAT class and quickly defeated my own best intentions by never cracking a study guide or taking the test. That was 2007.
Four years later, my age had snuck up on me. At 28 going on 29, I would be at the upper end of my MBA peers in the Fall of 2012. Despite loving my job, with zero interest in thinking about a future without it, the time had come to get serious about my graduate education. And that meant...studying math.
Ergo, August became my month of the GMAT. It was not my best month.
September
September seems to be an auspicious month for me. In 2008, it was the launch of the Center for Financial Inclusion, a proud moment for our founding team of seven dedicated people; it was also the month that Maria Otero asked me to work for her--clearly a pivotal moment in my career. In 2009, it was my transition from ACCION to the State Department. In 2010, it was my life-changing spiritual pilgrimage to Bhutan, and Secretary Clinton's first speech on financial inclusion--a personal highlight from my many months of bringing the issue into State's foreign policy thinking. And in 2011, it was the launch of the Open Government Partnership, an initiative that had quickly--and somewhat unadvisedly--become my reason for living.
On September 20, I stood in a small circle with President Obama just before he walked into a room of 46 world leaders to launch the project that I had been leading for the United States government. I hadn't slept in five days. Standing next to a dear friend (who heroically produced this video for the White House at my supplication), I felt as if I was standing on the furthest edge of reality. One step further, and I would have been dreaming. The next day, our launch was on the cover of the Wall Street Journal. I hadn't been dreaming at all.
October
After the launch of OGP, all I wanted to do was sleep. If I did nothing else with my career, I would have contributed enough to the world and could retire happy. But it was not to be. Begrudgingly, October marked the beginning of the dreadful b-school application process. As a writer, I thought I might actually enjoy the essay-writing process. I was wrong. Five schools, with an average of four distinct essays each. The questions ranged from esoteric to exact, all of which I found exceedingly difficult to answer.
November
A month that began in London with an evening at #10 Downing Street is a much-needed time of rejuvenation and reconnecting with life outside of work. (even while at work, I behave as the seasoned diplomat I am: at Number 10, replicating Hugh Grant's dance down the yellow stairwell in Love Actually. Obviously.)
Back in the States, I have the honor of speaking (and singing) in the wedding of two beloved friends. I begin to feel balance coming back to my life, finally recovering from the exhaustion of the Fall, in the company of friends who remind me of the important things in life.
Later in the month, Mom and I travel to Mexico for the wedding of another dear friend, stopping at the ancient Mayan city of Chichen Itza. Just over a year after our journey to Bhutan, I relish in the revitalizing company of my mother--a personal anchor of balance and energy in her own all-too-full life.
December
Another friend ties the knot in a beautiful South Carolina lowcountry setting. It is a timely reminder of my roots--in both place and love. The next day, I fly to Brasilia, Brazil for a meeting of the Open Government Partnership--individuals from 46 countries who--by their presence and commitment--provide a collective shock to my system. The shock in this: holy $h!#, this thing we started is, like, way bigger than us now. Whoah. We might really be changing the world.
My first time in the giant country (that borders more countries than any other in the world!), I try my hand at Portuguese. Brazilian colleagues laugh and speak to me in English instead. I take the hint.
I am on the tarmac in Sao Paolo when I get the news. Tulane's Freeman School of Business has offered me a full scholarship. The person sitting next to me is more than a little taken aback when I turn to him with a giant bear hug. Even if this is the only acceptance I receive, I am going to business school!
On my way home, I realized I've achieved a personal milestone beyond just getting into a great MBA program. I've managed to live in the present while planning for the future. Though...given my experience taking the GMAT...I would not recommend it. Ultimately, I much prefer the present-only approach to living.
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