I'm going to start this blog by jumping right in. Why am I doing this? Because I want, or actually need, a space where I can speak my mind and let my thoughts spill out into words on a page to try and make sense of what life throws at me. I have been doing this for years with close friends at dinner parties, coffee shops and over e-mail, so why not let you in on some of it? I want to share the little and big things that I come across in life and hopefully put a humorous spin on some of the typical challenges that all of us young woman are faced with.
Perhaps the best way to begin will be to explain the name of this blog - Checkerboard approach. You see, when I was 18, I dated this very tall, very skinny boy who was obsessed with aviation. I could hardly say I was impressed with the long hours he spent bent over a joystick flying on a flight simulator. However, I did pick up a bit of aviation trivia from him. One thing that stuck in my memory was the route of the flight approach into Hong Kong’s Kai Tak airport, known for being extremely difficult for even the most experienced pilots to execute.
The gist of the approach was that the pilot would first let the plane’s instrument guidance system handle the initial descent over one of the city's most densely populated residential areas. While seemingly hovering so close above the rooftops and busy streets that you would expect the gust from the plane’s engines to make the people below scatter like skittles, the plane’s nose was inching ever closer and closer to the side of a mountain that stood just ahead. The critical step in the approach arrived when the pilot spotted a visual reference point on the mountain - an orange and white colored checkerboard. At that point, he had to act fast. Off went the auto-pilot. Mere moments from touchdown, and less than 300 meters above the ground, the pilot had to make a 47° visual right turn to line up with the runway and land.
The Kai Tak Heart attack, as the approach was appropriately dubbed by passengers, is no longer in use. In a way, however, the Kai Tak experience is not completely lost. Any single woman juggling a career, private life and family is experiencing the Kai Tak Heart attack several times a week on a regular basis. You may not be holding the control yoke to a several tonne metal aircraft, but the weight of responsibility in your hands feels none the lighter. And that is what I want to write about. I want this blog to be my checherboard; like the signal at Kai Tak instructing the pilot to take the plane off auto pilot and make a sharp turn in order to avoid a spectacular collision. This is my way of motivating myself to take the reigns by documenting the ups and downs that will inevitably follow.
I wish I could report that with the years I am becoming a more confident pilot. But the opposite is true. It isn't as though there haven't been a couple of great times when I made it nicely to my destination. I finished law school. Passed two bars. Got a job. Travelled to some seriously cool places, and had a couple of crazy, movie-worthy romantic encounters. But recently, I feel as though I am trying to make a landing and flight control has directed me into a holding pattern which I cant seem to get out of and some days I feel like I am running out of fuel.
The truth is that until now my flight path has been mapped out; there was always a clear destination ahead. When life is filled with discrete journeys like getting through another semester, or passing another exam, no matter the current situation, there is always the prospect that there is a definite end to any unpleasant experience. And after the definite end lies the optimistic land of opportunity. How many times have you told yourself “I just need to get through these next few months and then it will be better”? I have. A lot.
Law school was easily the most miserable experience of my life. I left my family, friends, and a great guy back in Europe to be able to go to Boston and attain the “desirable” label of Doctor of law. I thought I would brave it out for three years and then get back to my life, which would somehow be there, waiting for me. But life did not wait. Nor did the great guy. And so I feel like I am at a new start and life will really be what I make of it. I hope I can be braver, wiser, and make good choices, yet, despite all the new responsibility, not grow so serious that I forget to be spontaneous and nurture my still unjaded dreams. So here we begin. And if I can add a little humor to your own journey as I document my path, then that alone will be something.
