My baby blanket is my best friend
“The art of life is a constant readjustment to our surroundings.”
-Kakuzo Okakaura
Often overlooked is the importance of possessions that ground us during stressful times of change. These things bring us comfort and joy during times of sadness, and hope when navigating despair. And they serve as a reminder of our values when faced with a moral dilemma.
My grandma knitted me a white blanket that was as soft as a pillow when I was born. Fondly calling it my “woobie,” I went everywhere with it. Many years later, I’m ashamed to admit both the number of “woobies” my grandma has knitted, as well as the fact that “woobies” had a designated place in my suitcase for weekly business trips. For years, my grandma has been unable to make me another blanket due to arthritis in her hands, and I’ve come to increasingly cherish this item and the sense of peace, relief, and overwhelming love it brings me. One week before coming to the GSB, I was flooded with emotions when she handed me a bag that contained one final blanket. My grandma had spent months working through her hand pain and quickly deteriorating joint strength to give me a physical reminder that she was with me as I began a new journey in life, an act of love that still brings me to tears.
Over the last few months, I’ve grabbed my blanket many times for a memory of home. I wanted to ask other GSBers what they brought with them to inspire a sense of safety and comfort when embarking on a new journey — these are their stories.
“This is a picture of a building I’d walk by to and from work during a happy time in my life. This is a really boring gray building, but the rainbow on this one stood out to me and sparked joy and happiness in my life. It showed me that you can make happiness anywhere, find it anywhere, or add it anywhere, and I wanted a piece of that happy time in my life when I moved here.”
“This is a white tea from A.C. Perch, Denmark’s flagship tea brand that is a Purveyor to the Court of Denmark. I like it because it is simple, but very refined and elegant, truly embodying Danish culture. My partner is from Denmark, and so Denmark feels like home to me. Whenever I’m looking to feel a bit nostalgic, or I’m feeling a bit under the weather, I love the sense of serenity and calmness this tea brings me. This tea has been in production for hundreds of years, and it almost brings this sense of long-term perspective, and that everything is going to be okay.”
“This is a sweatshirt I bought with my mom before I started at Stanford back in 2009. We were walking on campus, and as a joke my mom said we should buy it in case I were to get into Stanford — that way we’d save the money in the future when I actually did get in! I ended up going here for undergrad, and while the sweatshirt isn’t a particularly flattering fit (I don’t know why we got such a big size), I feel like it is one of my lucky sweatshirts. It’s very red, warm, and it reminds me of being an eager 17-year-old walking around Stanford campus with my mom.”
“I take this Krishna idol with me everywhere I go for longer than a couple days, and as I’ve moved through multiple geographies in my life, I’ve always made sure to carry it with me. Wherever I feel overwhelmed, I look at it, and it reinforces that the universe is always working in our favor. At the same time, when things are good, I look at it and express my gratitude. The past 8 weeks at the GSB were no different — this idol has been a grounding factor during turbulent times and a reminder of how privileged I am to be part of such an immensely talented community.”
“In Hong Kong, there is a lot of pressure on housing due to very strict zoning laws, and so sometimes, people like us live in industrial buildings illegally because they offer cheaper rent for larger spaces. The funny thing about industrial buildings is that there is always weird stuff lying around. Coming home one night, my partner and I walked into the building and found boxes of plush animals, and so we both took one. My partner has Roger, the monkey, and I have C*nt, the frog; they’re best buddies. He reminds me of my partner, but also causes a lot of people to pay attention to me that normally wouldn’t as I walk around with him on my back.”
“We had this apartment on West 11th that was the biggest catch and I lived at this intersection in New York for three years. We shouldn’t have been able to move from college into the West Village; it was like a freak accident that we got it, but it was probably the place where I felt like I became independent for the first time. This artist, Kazuya Morimoto, basically sits on street corners in New York and just draws them, and I’d seen pieces by him at friends’ places that I loved. One day, I was walking through the West Village, and he was on the corner drawing with nearly 200 of these just lying around. I had to get the one of my intersection to remind me of this place where I felt safe, but also felt like I grew into adulthood.”
“My grandfather was a hard-working farmer at heart, and when he was diagnosed with dementia in 2014, he began to have his tools taken away in order to keep him safe. However, he still managed to whittle away this coat rack with a knife and gifted it to me. It has our birthdays engraved in it as well as the name we share. I’ve brought it around the world with me to remember him and what he means to me.”
“This is a plate with real ammonite fossils in it; I keep it on the shelf above my computer monitor. It (sometimes) reminds me of geological time, the ways the world can change outside our own time’s Overton window, how the world can be largely dominated and flush with sea beasts and crustaceans. It gives me some perspective. Then I lose the perspective, and have to start over again. Shantih shantih shantih….”
“This collection of items I brought with me because they remind me of some pivotal moments in my life. The bronze tin says ‘bits and baubles’ and has a cute little dog in it. I got it on my first and only family vacation with my dad, and it reminds me of the first time in my life it felt like we really bonded.”
Editor: Claire Yun
