It's easy now to romanticize my time here.
But I had some very difficult times here too.
Some combination of being 19, dealing with my first heartbreak,
taking birth control pills that have since been taken off the market for their depressive side effects,
and spending too much time missing daylight during winter months led me to some pretty dark moments, particularly during sophomore year.
There were several occasions where I started crying in meetings with professors
overwhelmed with what I was supposed to pull off when I could barely get myself out of bed in the morning.
Moments when I took on the motto for my school work, "Done, not good."
If only I could finish my work,
even if it took eating a jumbo pack of sour Patch Kids to get me through a single 10-page paper.
I felt that I've accomplished a great feat. I repeated to my self "Done, not good."
A couple years ago, I went to Tokyo with my husband and I ate the most remarkable sushi restaurant.
I don't even eat fish. I'm vegan. So that tells you how good it was.
Even with just vegetables, this sushi was the stuff you dreamed about.
The restaurant has six seats.
My husband and I marveled at how anyone could make rice so superior to all other rice.
We wondered why they didn't make a bigger restaurant and be the most popular place in town.
Our local friend explains to us that
all the best restaurants in Tokyo are that small and only do one type of dish: sushi or tempura or teriyaki.
Because they want to do this thing well and beautifully.
And it's not about quantity. It's about taking pleasure in the perfection and beauty of the particular.
I'm still learning now that it's about good and maybe never done that.
The joy and work ethic and virtuosity we bring to the particular
can impart a singular of enjoyment to those we give to and of course, to ourselves.