enjoy the water

With the 18th anniversary of my sister Amanda’s death approaching, my head is jumbled. Happy memories blend as one of my biggest fears creeps into fruition– the inability to recall the sound of her voice. Time-centric, fictitious milestones that I inflate the significance of and cling to as a false sense of security as an attempt to measure the immeasurable pass by every few years. Like becoming older than my big sister (it happened 8 years ago). Then there's surpassing the years in which she's been gone to how many we shared together. I fixate on these numbers as if they mean something. Around the same period I outlived my shared time with Amanda, I started reading and practicing stoicism, or rather a 21st century version of it.

The main sticking point for me revolves around taking ownership of how I respond to what life throws my way. You can’t choose the pitches, but you can decide when to swing. Stoicism gave me the foundation to take back control of my thoughts. In adopting stoic principles into daily practice, I’ve come to articulate my feelings with more acuity and temper myself, ultimately coming to a place where I can say I’m grateful for my sister’s passing. That hurts. It’s a conclusion that I continue to struggle with, but it's an empowering source of strength. A leg up, rather than a crutch. I’ve spent years asking why and how it happened, but in shifting “the how”, power and onus falls back to me. It didn’t happen to me, it happened for me. The lived experience allows me the perspective to choose patience, compassion, and curiosity.

David Foster Wallace’s now famous commencement address was actually given to my sister’s graduating class at Kenyon in 2005. I was there in the audience as an awkward, hyperactive 11 year old blissfully unaware of the significance his words would have on me in the future. “This Is Water” emphasizes the importance of conscious choice. It’s a very stoic speech. Amanda reminds me everyday of the water– even more, enjoy the water.

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