Life Enhancing and Life Diminishing Power

A few days ago, while I was journaling, Taylor reminded me about a concept from our African American religion class. After spending a few minutes reminiscing on our professor’s incredible enthusiasm and what she would do if she were here in Zambia, we remembered Dr. Clark presenting the idea of life enhancing and life diminishing powers as a naturally existing balance within the universe. She described it by talking about a toddler so full of life and energetic (life enhancing) but also so draining and exhausting at the same time (life diminishing). The more that I sat with this idea, the more I realized that it is not simply a religious framework, but a way of understanding how we move through the world and what we give to the people around us.

While most people see life enhancing power as loud and dramatic, it can also exist on a smaller scale. Sometimes it is as simple as making someone feel seen. Sometimes it is trust. Sometimes it allows you to be vulnerable enough to admit fear, uncertainty, or dependence on others. Life diminishing power can emerge when we isolate ourselves, close ourselves off emotionally, or try to carry everything alone.

Before this trip, I mostly viewed vulnerability as a weakness, despite endlessly hearing pro-vulnerability propaganda in CLP. I liked feeling self-sufficient. I liked believing I could handle everything on my own. But traveling across Zambia with a group of people for an entire month has challenged that instinct in ways I could never prepare for. There is something about being far away from home, out of my routines, and constantly encountering new experiences that stripped away any illusion that I can exist independently.

Yesterday, standing at the edge of Victoria Falls, preparing to swing over the gorge, I confronted that truth in a very physical way. There is a moment before you jump where every instinct in your body tells you not to move. My mind searched for control, for certainty, for a guarantee that nothing could go wrong. But eventually you choose to stay frozen at the edge, or you surrender yourself to the experience.

What struck me the most afterwards was not the adrenaline itself, but the trust it required. Trust in the people securing the ropes. Trust in the encouragement from the group around me. Trust in my own ability to survive the fear. Trust that Mary Pearl and I would step off the platform at exactly the same time. In a strange way, jumping forced me to confront how much of life depends on relationships and interdependence. We are constantly held up by other people, even when we pretend we are standing alone.           

This realization connects directly to the idea of life enhancing power. Throughout this trip, I have started to notice how much power exists in community and openness. Some of the moments that have felt the most meaningful have not been the “big” moments, but all of the smaller ones; making animal noises on a ridiculously long bus ride, sharing a room not only with friends but also with mosquitos and a lizard (named Maurice), laughing at Jeff’s sole desire to see one type of bird on the Safari (and nothing else), or passing out on an airplane runway in front of approximately 100 people. These moments create life. They strengthen something invisible between us all.

At the same time, I have also become more aware of how easy it is to diminish life within ourselves and in others. Fear can do that. Pride can do that. The need to appear composed at all times can do that. When we refuse vulnerability, we sometimes refuse connection as well, even from those most important to us. And without connection, something essential begins to shrink and boy does it shrink fast.

As we descend into Zambezi, I think one of the biggest lessons I am carrying with me is that growth is not always about becoming stronger in the traditional sense. Sometimes growth is learning how to lean on others without shame. Sometimes it is allowing yourself to be changed by people, placed, and experiences instead of trying to control them. Sometimes it is understanding that courage is not the absence of fear, but a willingness to move forward while trusting that you will not do it alone.

And maybe that begins with allowing ourselves to be fully human first.

I love you all to the moon and back a million times never stopping.

Samantha Cornfeld

Zam Fam ‘26

Mom and Dad – Missing you endlessly, always. The good thing about the struggle bus is that buses always have multiple stops and opportunities to hop off.

Katherine – stay away from my bed and make sure that Megan stays away from my closet. I have exciting tea that can’t be shared on the blog because of “lurkers” (iykyk)

Lulu – Have the best time playing at state, I am so proud of you! Make sure to nail somebody at the net for me (and don’t apologize for it!)

Anders – I heard you barely beat Kate in tennis the other day. That’s embarrassing. Couldn’t be me. Don’t worry, you have lots of time to improve before I get home. Currently also just got a notification that Jane has to use the bathroom . . . you better get on that. I love you lots!

Juju L – I hope Glacier was the adventure of a lifetime and that you are not too tired of it and will go back with me next year. No worries about the roommate situation! A quick medical emergency among arrival meant that Jeff was more than happy to leave us in each other’s care. The real question is which one of us passed out on the airplane tarmac?

Juju G. – I am counting on you for a full rundown on everything that has happened to Taylor Frankie Paul since I’ve left (that girl can’t seem to catch a break). I miss your comforting presence and ma super hype to go farmers market-ing with you in Seattle; the markets are definitely a different vibe here.

To everybody reading along with us, your support means so much more than we could ever express.

Much love
Zam Fam ’26-7 (hehe)