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I had been looking forward to that trip. I had known Don Stevens all my life, heard many of his stories, I had seen my parent's photos from 2004, heard their stories and noticed what it meant for them. It was now my turn.
Just before departing for the trip, I found myself caught in a classic situation for a procrastinating student as I had to give back my application to study in the US the following year. I realised too late that I underestimated the time it took to complete so I ended up rushing it the last day before my departure, the same time as I was rushing to get all my things together on time to leave for the trip. This caused quite some anxiety, but, of course, there was more. While I was trying to focus on these two things, the phone magically starts ringing to slow you down and, when the mother calls for the 20th check-list, it can get difficult to remain cool-headed. My excellent friend Ashu also called me to greet me before my departure for his great country. I ended up going to bed at around 4 a.m. and then had to rush in the corridors of my university to get the last things done just before my train for the airport at noon.
In the previous weeks before my departure, my mother kept on reapeating to me an imitation of what I would have sounded like when I was 5 years old telling her "You were right to say that everything was going to be alright". As the d-day approached, the number of repetitions increased...
As soon as I arrived in Delhi and woke up from my nap, I knew everthing was going to be alright indeed because right next to my bed it read: "Don't worry, be happy". I thus thought that maybe this statement needed to be looked at more seriously.
My trip actually ended up being an embodiment of that philosophy: it went more than great and my application worked great, I was one of the very few selected for the program that I was applying for. Even though I did my interview for my university on my phone sitting outside the dining hall in Meherabad, essentially in the middle of the desert, a few thousand miles away from the jury that was in a cold and small university room. I was getting worried for that interview, so I was jokingly singing the song "Don't worry, Be happy" that I had heard in the Baba hall in Hyderabad.
After all those small but piled up worries, everything went great for me and I'm now very happy. So if there's anything I have to say, it's:
Don't worry, be happy.
-Aurélien
I had been looking forward to that trip. I had known Don Stevens all my life, heard many of his stories, I had seen my parent's photos from 2004, heard their stories and noticed what it meant for them. It was now my turn.
Just before departing for the trip, I found myself caught in a classic situation for a procrastinating student as I had to give back my application to study in the US the following year. I realised too late that I underestimated the time it took to complete so I ended up rushing it the last day before my departure, the same time as I was rushing to get all my things together on time to leave for the trip. This caused quite some anxiety, but, of course, there was more. While I was trying to focus on these two things, the phone magically starts ringing to slow you down and, when the mother calls for the 20th check-list, it can get difficult to remain cool-headed. My excellent friend Ashu also called me to greet me before my departure for his great country. I ended up going to bed at around 4 a.m. and then had to rush in the corridors of my university to get the last things done just before my train for the airport at noon.
In the previous weeks before my departure, my mother kept on reapeating to me an imitation of what I would have sounded like when I was 5 years old telling her "You were right to say that everything was going to be alright". As the d-day approached, the number of repetitions increased...
As soon as I arrived in Delhi and woke up from my nap, I knew everthing was going to be alright indeed because right next to my bed it read: "Don't worry, be happy". I thus thought that maybe this statement needed to be looked at more seriously.
My trip actually ended up being an embodiment of that philosophy: it went more than great and my application worked great, I was one of the very few selected for the program that I was applying for. Even though I did my interview for my university on my phone sitting outside the dining hall in Meherabad, essentially in the middle of the desert, a few thousand miles away from the jury that was in a cold and small university room. I was getting worried for that interview, so I was jokingly singing the song "Don't worry, Be happy" that I had heard in the Baba hall in Hyderabad.
After all those small but piled up worries, everything went great for me and I'm now very happy. So if there's anything I have to say, it's:
Don't worry, be happy.
-Aurélien
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