In September 2021, about two years ago, I was relieved to land in Graz, where the summer was still fighting hard, with twenty eight degrees and green leaves, holding the flag of vitality. A kind of resonance, tired but not giving up. My journey from India through the pandemic, spent entirely in Sweden, was cold and dark. Like the winter days that overwhelm our perception of reality, it had a desensitising effect in many ways. Coming to the Department of Pharmacology at Med Uni Graz felt like a dream too good to come true, a place where there is light and belonging. I was lucky and it felt like a miracle, in the midst of the uncertainties of the pandemic. It felt as if Med Uni Graz had saved me from chaos. Soon the courses and labs started and I became the researcher I wanted to be.
Life has a way of recalibrating us, to the little things we fixate on, the daily challenges, the sense of time, the feeling of lagging behind, presentations, workshops, reports, experiments. I went from 'living' to 'surviving' in an instant, something that happens to all of us when we move to a new place. Disappointment is a feeling we can't escape when experiments don't turn out the way we thought they would. We learn, we re-plan, we try again, that is the essence of research. Trying to optimise this process, walking around the campus, became my ritual of "re-setting". Thanks to the vastness of our campus, from the bridge I can see small distant hills, church spires and beautiful pine trees, all in close proximity to each other and to my lab. Seeking inspiration from nature became the lifeblood of my motivation at times when I needed to restructure my thinking.
One day, walking in search of answers, I came across a glorious field of clover behind the K block. Covering an almost deserted patch of mud, all cascading, facing the sun, existing in perfection. I have always admired clover fields for their effortless existence, something I really wanted to harmonise with that day. "As a species that dominates this planet with the power of mind and effort, we humans seem to have placed an overrated emphasis on luck," I thought to myself as I hopelessly began to stare into the field - wondering what a four-leaf clover would even look like in reality. "I've never seen one before," I thought to myself, already tired of searching for the seemingly non-existent symbol of good luck. Suddenly, to my pleasant surprise and with very little effort, I stumbled upon the perfect one. One that has led to this piece of writing, to a couple of paintings, one that allows the idea of slowing down to become a sprint again, one that is my first four-leaf clover, ever.
Finding this rare, yet simple clover that day here in Med Uni Graz, made me appreciate that miracles don't need to come with a parade. In that one moment, without any words spoken, I was able to understand the complex paradox of finding peace, in letting go. As if I came across some kind of new information, on how we alter the outcome, with our own expectations, or not.
A silent moment of magic unraveling in front of my eyes, took me back to why I came here and how fortunate I am to live my dream. It felt like having a nostalgia, for a life that I am already living. And just like that, my mind was at ease and I felt renewed. Once again, it felt like this place has saved me, from a chaos.
Preserved in a book, reminder of a perfect life form, all I will ever hear is "Alles gute" whenever I think of Med Uni Graz, whenever I look at this four leaf clover. Hope it brings you luck.
Erstellt von: Alankrita Rani
