If there ever were a competition for the Most Appropriate Title, this one wouldn’t even get through the entries. You wouldn’t expect anyone to write this for a ‘work anniversary’ as LinkedIn (ever so kindly) reminds me. But somehow, I managed to rig the competition to my favour and oddly enough, this seems to be perfect for My two years in BloodConnect.
Do note the personalisation, I say My.
My, because it’s become such an important part of me as a person (mind you; I’ll say I’m not ‘just’ a person but a force to be reckoned with) with a weird spelling (girl or a guy?) called Cearet.
My, because you never know what you chance upon. And sometimes, if you’re lucky enough, you’ll find what is exactly right for you. You’ll feel as though you were made for this. And my chance was BloodConnect’s volunteer application.
My, because, a home (away from home) is such a simple concept but sometimes, people spend their entire lifetimes looking for their familiar and happy place. When you feel a sense of belongingness to someone or to some thing, embrace it. And remember: nothing good ever goes away. This good thing will always stay with me.
My, because when you love the work you do (it still feels like work :P), there’s nothing that can compare with that feeling. When you’re passionate, your eyes light up and in that moment, that spark seemingly lasts forever. You’ll do all you can, you’ll give it your everything and even then you’ll wonder what more you can give. I hope you never lose your sense of wonder (much like Lee Ann).
My, because you need people who’ll tell you when you’re being a jerk but who’ll also tell you that you’re downright amazing. They’ll say mean things to you but never (ever) behind your back. Their honesty will be cringe-worthy, their feedbacks would be worse than onions. Take it all in. It’ll make you a better person and a better volunteer. There will be days when you wouldn’t want to work; go to these people, they’ll turn it all around for you. Attend camps with them, attend GBMs with them and slowly but surely, they’ll become like those flies at the edge of the windshield where the wipers don't reach and who always remain. Go, meet those flies.
Here’s to the things/people/feelings/whatever you might want to call it that are essential to your being and who’ll help you through life.
Remember, make this time your own. And come back here, I promise to listen to all your stories with the same love and enthusiasm as I am telling you mine.