“Hey you”, I heard as I came into view of the small, quiet Alaskan airport. A broad smile came onto my face when I saw a beautiful, tall woman with long dark hair coming towards me. “You have gotten so big since the last time I saw you. I missed you so much!” she said as we embraced each other. I laughed remembering that the last time I saw my Aunt was about four years ago when I was that shy girl who always had her nose in a book. “I missed you too.”

After we got my luggage we took the half hour drive back to her charming and cozy home in the middle of a forest of tall birch and pine trees. I was in awe as I saw my two cousins, who had grown so much since the last time I saw them. My younger cousin Benny was taller than me, so much in fact that I had to tilt my head a bit to see him face to face. My cousin Cassie told me she was going to college next year. After I got acquainted with my room I collapsed onto my bed and fell asleep immediately since it had been a six hour flight to Alaska.



In the morning I ate a delicious breakfast of fruit casserole and took a tour of the house with my Aunt and my Uncle, who never runs out of saying something that will make you smile. The last stop was her art studio in the garage. She was an artist although she probably didn't consider herself one, that excelled at making mosaics. I marveled at all the different types of glass she had. She stated eagerly that she was going to teach me how to make a mosaic. I was excited to learn this since I had always wanted to make one and the best teacher was my aunt. In fact, she had many pieces of her own artwork around her house. Throughout the ten days I spent there I would often catch myself stopping and looking at them, thinking they should be in an art museum. I wondered if I could ever make something as beautiful as her art was. Recently I had tried my hand at drawing and discovered that I really liked it.






On the fifth day I finally started my first mosaic lesson. She kept the lesson short letting me use my imagination to lead the way, although she continued to talk to me throughout the lesson. We talked about casual topics, how I was doing in school, and how my family was doing back in Colorado. In the middle of our conversation she asked a question that would eventually change the way I look at my life. She asked “Do you enjoy cross country?” I of course said yes, in fact it was the only event I looked forward to everyday during my freshman and sophomore year. I loved every aspect of it, so much in fact that I was set in getting a scholarship in it for college. She then said something that sent me in puzzled spiral of thought, “Well it doesn’t seem like it because you haven’t ran since you have been here.” I thought about this, it was true I hadn’t, I had packed running clothes yet hadn’t used them. As we talked more she said that I should look at everything I do and scale it from one to five on how much I love it. She left after that and although the conversation was over I was still running the words through my head. I went through the conversation over and over again as I glued pieces of glass on my chalk board that I had gotten for my mosaic. I was troubled because I couldn’t find a number for cross country or art; they were just kind of there and couldn’t be put above or below anything I did. I thought about my aunt and her art, it seemed she was passionate about it and seemed really content. It was as if she had everything figured out, almost like her life flowed in perfection. “How can I get my life like that?” I wondered. My life wasn’t bad; it seemed busy, but never bad.
I thought about this the next day also, when I was working on my mosaic. As I glued each individual, smooth piece of glass I thought more about my priorities and what number they would be on the scale. I decided that cross country was about a four and art was about a three, but as I saw my mosaic coming together it changed to a four also.



Later as I was sketching a tree in their backyard the topic came back to me. I thought about Wasilla, the town where my aunt lives in, and compared it to my town Arvada; back in Colorado. Wasilla life was so relaxed compared to Arvada. Even at the airport no one was running or seemed to be in a rush, unlike most airport people, just slowly and casually walking to where ever they wanted to go. It was nice to see since back at home I never slowed down to relax. It always seemed I was going to practice or going out with friends or doing homework. Even in the summer I didn’t relax, I kept going till I run out of energy. I looked at my aunt and her family. They seemed so happy with everything that they did. I just couldn’t figure it out, how they could all be so content.










The next day as I was gluing the last piece of glass to my mosaic I figured it out, as if the last piece of glass had my answer. They all had passions. They loved their passions and they did them every day. For my Aunt it was art while to my other cousins it was school, but they loved what they did and that’s what made them so happy. It didn’t matter how busy their day was they always found at least a little time to squeeze in what they loved. It wasn’t just that though. They didn’t merely “survive” life. They lived it, and they lived it through their passions. It was their passions that made life worth living. Even though their town was very slow paced they seemed to thrive off of it. They stopped and actually saw how great life is instead of rushing through it. I thought about this the rest of the day.
I finished the mosaic the next day after my aunt showed me how to cement the glass in. I looked at my finished work and smiled. I was proud that I had created something from just glass and a small chalkboard. The rest of the time that I was there I couldn’t help but look at it once and a while and grin. I also noticed that the more I observed my family the more I saw them in the new perspective I had gained. They were all happy with everything they did whether it was doing work, reading a book or just walking their dog. I then resolved that what I had to do to make myself feel happy like them. I had to follow my passions. Every day I would do something that involved my passions whether it was running five miles or just sketching a flower, because following my passions made life happy.








The last day with a heavy heart I packed up and said good-bye to both my cousins and my uncle. Lastly I stood in the studio that I had made my “work of art” and felt like I was saying good-bye to a long lost friend that I had just seen again. As my aunt drove me back to the airport I thanked her for everything. Although she didn’t know the extent of how her great words had helped me, she accepted my appreciation and said I need to come back soon. I agreed; honestly I had fallen in love with the slow paced town. As I gave her one last long hug before I rushed onto the airplane I smiled thinking that this trip I will bring home one new mosaic and one new perspective of life. Not too bad of a vacation.