I Wanted Columbia So Bad, I Didn’t Have a Plan B.
I Wanted Columbia So Bad, I Didn’t Have a Plan B.
At the start of 2015, I lined up all my ducks in a row, knowing I wanted this year to improve. I am a nut and read my horoscopes; I am into astrology, think manifesting and belief is power, and most importantly, meditate. These habits throughout the years have fluctuated, but I have faith in them. 2014 was exciting; I started working on one of the most demanding projects of my young career with Vice NEWS and finally permanently returned to the United States. I also, if you know me, went through a divorce. The magnitude of the changes in my life at first was very overwhelming.
Divorce is the hardest decision I have ever made; I broke my heart and my ex-wife's because I knew there was something better for both of us. The emotions you feel can be debilitating; it was tough some days to wake up and even get out of bed, but every morning that I forced myself to function made me stronger and more confident—coming back to the U.S., I had a plan. I wanted to become the person I know I am and am supposed to be. For many, the fear of losing what you have and the unknown would stop a person from turning their life upside down to rebuild it again. Still, you make that decision when you feel in your heart with utmost passion and belief that your existence is valuable and has a greater purpose.
I was now divorced, broke, a freelancer who lost most of his network, back at my parent's home, and unsure where to go. So, I started with the basics. I started a committed routine of exercise and meditation. I knew if I healed my body, mind, and soul, I could begin to feel some ownership over what felt like a big storm. It was the best thing I could have ever done in my life. I learned to treat my body like the beautiful temple that it is, and I reconnected myself with my mind. I found all the abundance I thought was missing right before me. My heart and soul grew with gratefulness for the simple things. I quickly regained my confidence and decided to do something that had intimidated me for years: apply for graduate school.
I have always believed in two things about myself, but they were not always in sync. First, I am a hard worker; second, I get what I want. At times, I have a lot of audacity. When it came time to apply for graduate school, I had planted the seeds years before. I already knew my choice: Columbia School of Journalism at Columbia University in New York City, the top school in the world for my profession. Years ago, I had flirted with visiting the campus and befriending many Columbia J-School students and alums. Still, at the time, the shitty rationalizing part of my brain told me I wasn't good enough. I was convinced that my degree from Cal Poly Pomona and my work needed to improve with Columbia's standards. But, when the shit hits the fan, you dig deep and go after what you want.
I started the process of applying for graduate school in September. I decided also to consider the UC Berkeley School of Journalism, just in case… I visited Berkeley's info sessions, popped up randomly to see the staff, and got a feel for the school, but those visits left me feeling empty. I had left my heart in NYC and knew I wanted to attend only one school. The catch was that the school just needed to want me back. So when November came, I applied for Berkeley, but the energy was not positive and very toxic. I had too many minds telling me how to write my essays, what work I should submit, and how to focus on going to Berkeley because my chances of getting to Columbia seemed slim.
I wanted Columbia so bad; I needed a plan B.
Luckily, Columbia's application due date was Dec. 15th, just enough time for me to center myself and make the application a fluid and satisfying process. I collected the work samples I was proud of, letters of recommendation from those Trusted who had seen me in my best light, and I wrote three essays that may or may not be brilliant but were my voice. I applied and began manifesting my life in NYC. I would wake up most mornings heading to the famous Runyeon Park in Los Angeles, run till I felt sick, and then meditate. I reminded myself every day of all the beauty in my life and how powerful each of us truly is. I would show gratefulness to the universe for giving me confidence and a composer, and the city wants something unique. I believed, like all of us should, that I deserved this.
Relentlessly, I thought about NYC and Columbia J-School so much that I believed I would be there no matter what. I had no choice; remember, there was no plan B. See, I didn't want to attend Berkeley, but I considered it a litmus test, and it also triggered many people around me to say I should start planning for the worst. I maintained my "no mind" philosophy, which I adopted from the great movie "The Last Samurai," and didn't listen. I was determined to be at Columbia, so I continued doing what had brought me this far, I believed.
I received my admittance letter to Columbia Journalism School a few weeks later. Booyah!
Six years ago, I was working in an industry I did not like, with no college education, and my future felt bleak. Over those six years, I married a beautiful woman who changed my life forever; she gave me a new way to look at the world and helped me find my passion. I finished college and quickly entered a profession aligned with my existence. Our marriage didn't work out, but I do not think of it as a failure; it was a success. We both grew immensely personally and professionally and became better individuals. I thank her for that.
As I gear up to move to NYC to start J-School in the fall, I want to express my gratitude to everyone who has touched my life, whether negative or positive. I have learned much about my existence this last year and that we are beautiful creations, constantly evolving. I am impressed with the soul's resilience, that even in times of pain and despair, we can still nurture ourselves and blossom. I give my love and thanks to you all from the deepness of my heart.
Hello, New York City! To all of you, visit me!
By: Adnan Khan