Time is a precious commodity that must be spent wisely. I am
cautious about how I utilize my time, as I fear wasting it. Each minute can
convey my affection and can make all the difference between accomplishing my
goals or not even starting them. I allocate my time thoughtfully for
studying, practicing with my show choir, and hanging out with my friends,
for these are crucial to my life. However, there are rare moments where time
seems to stand still.
One such moment comes when I return home after a long day at school and
rehearsals. I rush into my parents' room, where my mother, father, and
sister are waiting for me. We lounge on the bed and talk about our lives,
make plans for our next beach trip, and share jokes and gossip. They help me
to see life's challenges with clarity, reminding me of what truly matters.
For a brief moment, I allow myself to unwind and relax.
My show choir rehearsals are filled with laughter as my teammates and I tell
terrible jokes and spontaneously burst into movement. Unknowingly, we lose
track of time and soon realize that we've been rehearsing for hours. This
bond of fellowship persists when we perform on stage. We immerse ourselves
in the story, and time seems to slip away. My show choir is like a second
family to me. I do not choreograph for personal acclaim but rather to help
my sixty best friends discover their potential. Simultaneously, they empower
me to find my voice.
I plunge into the frigid waters, weighed down by my bulky scuba gear. As I
sink below the surface, I feel exhilarated. The rolling rhythm of the waves
and the vast ocean's hum create a meditative state, allowing me to be
present. I explore the vibrant sea creatures and swim alongside them,
carefree and in harmony. Most of my time is spent saving animals from
curious children and keeping them from falling into the tanks. However, the
memory that stands out is the time when I bonded with a visiting family over
our mutual love for ocean conservation. We chatted for an hour without even
realizing it. This shared passion for marine life and the desire to preserve
the ocean environment drives me to return each summer.
"Why don't we have any medical supplies?" My mind screams as I carry a
crying girl on my back across the campus in search of an ice pack and ankle
wrap. She had tripped while performing, and I could sense her pain and
anxiety. The chaos of the show becomes irrelevant as I devote my time to
ease her discomfort, regardless of how long it takes. I find what I need to
tend to her injury in the sports medicine training room. Little did I know
that she would be the first of many patients that I would tend to in that
same room. |