Undergraduate / "The Other Stoke"-UC Essay Prompt #1 [3]

UC Prompt #1- Describe the world you come from-for example, your family, community or school -and tell us how your world has shaped your dreams and aspirations.

First draft. Any feedback, advice, and corrections are VERY welcome. Thank You!

The Other Stoke

Nothing can replace the pure bliss I feel when I go windsurfing. For almost a third of my life I have been constantly windsurfing. It has become a part my world and defines much of who I am. To this day, I still love the satisfaction I get from the wind on my face, the weightlessness of the board beneath me, the force of the water rushing past my toes, and the sensation of becoming completely in tune with the rig. It is extremely euphoric. At the end of each session my body can't help but feel cool and ethereal from the same natural high that I experienced every time, the stoke.

It wasn't always like that. I once hated every aspect of windsurfing. Truthfully, I have always been clumsy and awkward with my movements. The first time I tried to windsurf was no exception, in fact, it was one of the most strenuous things I had ever attempted. No matter how many times I tried, I would always end up spending more time in the salt water than on my board. My first reaction was anger and resentment towards myself. Windsurfing was just another reminder of my collective failures.

Yet, overtime this difficulty is what made windsurfing stand out to me. I could not abandon what I had worked so hard to start. I felt compelled to perfect this empty gap I had created. My mind was drawn to pursuing the sails, the waves, the ocean. It became a challenge for me to learn and become not just a windsurfer, but a great windsurfer. I pursued it relentlessly, each failure became just another minuscule barrier that hindered me. One summer afternoon, when the sea water was still and a calm breeze blew, I did succeed. It was amazing to finally feel that all my effort and time had amounted to something.

As of right now I am a long shot away from becoming my envisioned perfect windsurfer. Actually, I am far away from achieving any of my perfect goals. However, if my time spent in the salt water taught me anything, it is that I will probably never truly reach my elusive dreams. I can only keep on striving and improving towards what I hope to one day achieve. I know constant effort is a long and arduous road. But this set of trials and errors is what gives excellence and perfection its high value. As unrealistic as my efforts may seem, it gives me joy to know that every time I get on that board and pull on my sail I am getting closer to my dreams, constantly searching for the other stoke.

Undergraduate / "Iris"- Common Application Essay Prompt #1 [9]

Common Application Prompt #1-Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.

I just need some feedback and advice for this essay. Thank You!

Iris
The small strip of boulder, dirt, and sand was situated right of the coast with nothing but the surging ocean rhythmically engulfing its shores. There was the lone flower, beautiful and flawless among the rubble of wilting ice plants and crabgrass that also inhabited the miniature island. From the distance I couldn't help but feel that the flower exhibited a sense of royalty, with its tender shades of purple dotting its smooth petals. Each petal was oval shaped with wilted edges, similar to that of a skirt, with a deep yellow vein directly striping down its curved middle. All the petals were held together as one coherent object by a strong, robust green stem that did not easily falter from the occasional gusting sea breeze. The recent rain shower had left a multitude of tiny water droplets along its slender leaves. Each drop magnified the aspect of flower underneath it, only further emphasizing the perfection in its form. It was the perfect present. There could be nothing else except the Iris.

I looked at it forlornly from the top of the two story jagged cliff, my mind searching for a possible solution that prevented me from splattering myself at the bottom, obtaining the Iris, and, of course, getting back up. Instinct and logic held my feet to the ground, urging me to walk back along the safe paved trail, drive home, and flop myself on to the utter safety of the couch. That was not going to happen. If I turned back now it would defeat the whole purpose of my quest and take me away from the prized Iris. Too many times had I let doubt, cautiousness, and fear hinder me from truly experiencing the potential of the moment. I had to cast aside these chains. Just this once I would rise up to the need and be fierce and brave for the beauty that lay just beyond the edge of my physical perimeter. My only option was to rely on luck. In other words, jump.

I felt cold sweat run down behind my ear as I took one last stable look at the blindingly purple goal below. I could only hope that I would land in the safety of the surrounding water. I moved back until I could only see the blue horizon ahead of me. I set my footing in anticipation, and then, my whole body quivering with excitement, I sprinted to the edge and jumped of the cliff.

I felt as if time went on a standstill as the air rushed through me. It would be a gross understatement to say that my leap was one of the most exhilarating and terrifying experiences I had ever had. The thrill of weightlessness made my mind surge chaotically with thoughts on whether I would even live to see another moment. Yet, at the same time I felt satisfied and at peace with the knowledge that I was inevitably getting closer to my ultimate goal, the Iris. This paradoxical fusion of chaos and peace gave me an unexplainable sort of happiness. For once I had done the illogical move. I had taken a risk, a gamble that could have been my last. But all that didn't matter. I had taken a step (or a fall) towards something that I chose. I was acting for me. My few seconds of free fall was not for a grade, nor for peer approval, but for myself.

I hit the frigid sea water feet first. Immediately, the heavy stinging pain of the impact left me gasping for a second wind as I desperately swam towards the rocky shores of the strip. My wet clothes had become a sack of potatoes, dragging me down deeper into the oceans elusive deep. Each laborious stroke brought me closer to what I had come so far for; there was no chance I would fail. I reached the miniature island, exhausted mentally and physically. Clumsy from the lack of energy I dragged myself through the small bushes of sea-blight until I reached the purple jewel. Almost reluctantly I grasped the base of the stem and picked the pristine Iris from its wiry roots. I stood there, firmly holding the piece of flora that lay in my hand. I had done it, the Iris was mine.

Later that day my mom received the Iris in a small terracotta pot. She blew out her forty three candles as I reflected on my journey. When I took my leap of that cliff I felt that I was going against the logical and safe path. I was going against the oppressive boundaries of fear and doubt that constantly hindered so many of my choices. I was striving for what I wanted without a statistical analysis of whether I would succeed, and it felt amazing. By shrugging aside the prospect of repercussions I gave myself the courage and the optimism to do what I wanted to do, in turn allowing me to become who I wanted to be. The Iris, in all its beauty, was my small testament to the future I could have, one filled with risks, adventure, and success. As I sat at our dinner table, eating a slice of the birthday cake, I contemplated whether all my efforts had really been worth it, when, from the corner of my eye, I saw my mom's tired eyes light up with a smile of gratitude. It was definitely worth it.