Hi, I have submitted this essay to a few colleges already, and have received feedback from few people. However, I have a few more colleges to send it to. Just wondering if it could use fine tuning? Thanks in advance.
As a self-identified ambivert (a combination of an introvert and extrovert), I find pleasure in being alone and I also find joy being in the company of others. I'm not too fond of loud or crowded places, however, and the idea of sitting in a library for hours makes my skin crawl. Surprisingly, there is a place that can suit my needs, and make me feel like I can never leave: a conference center called [_____], in [______], [_______].
Every year, since the beginning of high school, I leave my family behind and travel to [_____] for a youth retreat just two days after Christmas. I have memorized my routine: I wake up early, ride to the airport, fly to [_____], [_____], and catch the connecting flight to [____]. At this quiet airport we greet the same nice gentlemen who assist us in loading the taxi with our heavy luggage every year. The SUV door firmly closes, and the retreat begins.
Sitting in my usual seat next to the window, I peer out, admiring the tall and majestic trees covered in snow, the lakes, and the rustic homes. After arriving from the boisterous and bustling [urban area] that beckons out the extrovert in me, the distinction between the two cities cannot be ignored. My friends are conversing behind me but I am more focused on the rural landscape ahead. The abundance of trees and nature is more captivating than any conversation. The closer we arrive to the conference center, the higher my level of contentment rises. I watch the bars of my cell phone signal disappear one after the other, and I become fully immersed the moment my phone reads, "No Signal."
The silence of this secluded and remote area is a much-needed release from the noise of my daily stresses. I no longer hear the concerned voices of my parents, the honking of cars or the barking of dogs, only the leaves blowing and my heart beating. I no longer smell the polluted air, the smell of skunk, or the car exhausts, only the refreshing aroma of the water of the lake. I can feel every footstep I take as I walk towards the community dining room.
In the dining room, there are dozens of other teenagers from cities around the country eating meals together. We talk about our hometowns, interests and hobbies, and the extrovert in me loves the interaction. As we sing spiritual songs, and dance together in our "Dorky Dancing" choreography, I find myself at peace again. I no longer have to bottle myself up because of my self-conscious fears. I can shamelessly belt out the lyrics to old classic songs, and thoroughly enjoy a conga line or two. The freedom to express myself without a single concern of who is around me is empowering.
Throughout the conference, the coordinators organize activities for us based on the year's theme. These activities foster moments of reflection in me. With a daily hour of free time I also find myself lying in the middle of the labyrinth, staring at the sky and absorbing the silence. On the final day, New Year's Eve, the regrets and negative feelings of the year I attached to myself are finally released in the healing service. I write my worries on a small piece of paper and walk to the altar to burn the paper. I watch the burdens that seemed so intimidating and debilitating disintegrate. The next morning, the first day of the New Year, my suitcase feels lighter as it glides across the road. I sit in my window seat with ease, the SUV door of the taxi closes again, and the journey back home commences.
As a self-identified ambivert (a combination of an introvert and extrovert), I find pleasure in being alone and I also find joy being in the company of others. I'm not too fond of loud or crowded places, however, and the idea of sitting in a library for hours makes my skin crawl. Surprisingly, there is a place that can suit my needs, and make me feel like I can never leave: a conference center called [_____], in [______], [_______].
Every year, since the beginning of high school, I leave my family behind and travel to [_____] for a youth retreat just two days after Christmas. I have memorized my routine: I wake up early, ride to the airport, fly to [_____], [_____], and catch the connecting flight to [____]. At this quiet airport we greet the same nice gentlemen who assist us in loading the taxi with our heavy luggage every year. The SUV door firmly closes, and the retreat begins.
Sitting in my usual seat next to the window, I peer out, admiring the tall and majestic trees covered in snow, the lakes, and the rustic homes. After arriving from the boisterous and bustling [urban area] that beckons out the extrovert in me, the distinction between the two cities cannot be ignored. My friends are conversing behind me but I am more focused on the rural landscape ahead. The abundance of trees and nature is more captivating than any conversation. The closer we arrive to the conference center, the higher my level of contentment rises. I watch the bars of my cell phone signal disappear one after the other, and I become fully immersed the moment my phone reads, "No Signal."
The silence of this secluded and remote area is a much-needed release from the noise of my daily stresses. I no longer hear the concerned voices of my parents, the honking of cars or the barking of dogs, only the leaves blowing and my heart beating. I no longer smell the polluted air, the smell of skunk, or the car exhausts, only the refreshing aroma of the water of the lake. I can feel every footstep I take as I walk towards the community dining room.
In the dining room, there are dozens of other teenagers from cities around the country eating meals together. We talk about our hometowns, interests and hobbies, and the extrovert in me loves the interaction. As we sing spiritual songs, and dance together in our "Dorky Dancing" choreography, I find myself at peace again. I no longer have to bottle myself up because of my self-conscious fears. I can shamelessly belt out the lyrics to old classic songs, and thoroughly enjoy a conga line or two. The freedom to express myself without a single concern of who is around me is empowering.
Throughout the conference, the coordinators organize activities for us based on the year's theme. These activities foster moments of reflection in me. With a daily hour of free time I also find myself lying in the middle of the labyrinth, staring at the sky and absorbing the silence. On the final day, New Year's Eve, the regrets and negative feelings of the year I attached to myself are finally released in the healing service. I write my worries on a small piece of paper and walk to the altar to burn the paper. I watch the burdens that seemed so intimidating and debilitating disintegrate. The next morning, the first day of the New Year, my suitcase feels lighter as it glides across the road. I sit in my window seat with ease, the SUV door of the taxi closes again, and the journey back home commences.