My life cannot be summed up in a single verb, noun or adjective; nor can it alone be accredited the sum of any achievements and accomplishments. If there is a monument in my name, I suspect that it has been built with mistakes, advice, time, and mostly change. Those who believe that a person is incapable of changing another are not only ignorant but are to be truly pitied. If it were not for the presence of others throughout my endeavors, it is inevitable that there would be a very different person writing this letter, one of a closed mind and an ill acquaintance with life other than my own.
Henry David Thoreau once said “That man who does not believe that each day contains an earlier, more sacred, and auroral hour than he has yet profaned, has despaired of life, and is pursuing a descending and darkening way.” Thoreau died in 1862 after writing a compilation of essays regarding his time spent living at Walden Pond and what he discovered. Upon opening the pages of his articles, I came to the stark realization that with every word, sentence and paragraph I was slightly more knowledgeable, curious, and... different. Certainly it is not the person alone that has impacted or moved me so much, than their mere thoughts and ideals. Before lending an open ear to the advices of Thoreau, it can be said that my life did not differ day by day, nor was it prioritized correctly. He lived for those things that truly matter, he discovered the fine line between what is impossible with realism, what is possible with idealism, and took notice to the beauty in a darkening world. Through the course of my readings I became slightly overwhelmed by the life I lead and the changes I should make in order to one day die a portion less regretful. Though I did not live near a pond, and isolate myself completely, I trusted that even if somehow the course of my thoughts were changed, I could impact myself and perhaps those close to me; fortunately, I did.
In early June of last year I began my life. Every night was a good night; I lived more in a single summer than most people lived in a year. When asked to do something I answered with the mindset that there was no tomorrow, that that day was quite possibly the last day of my life, and when mistakes were made, I accepted them as a part of who I am. Equipped with the knowledge of someone much wiser than myself, I said yes to more daring adventures, and chose to be happy in times of darkness. The most impactful thing however, that Thoreau taught me, was to discover myself totally and completely. What I found was a surprise; I do not particularly care about the predjudices of my peers, I don’t mind standing out in a crowd, and I believe in having some amount of fun, big or small, at least once EVERYDAY. Thoreau teaches that "[one] should not talk so much about [themselves] if there were anybody else whom [they] knew as well. Unfortunately, [they are] confined to this theme by the narrowness of [their] experience." I plan on continuing the process of discovery with not only myself but of those around me, because certainly I alone cannot attempt to broaden my own horizons any more than with another’s advice.
Some would ask how a dead man can continue to change lives centuries later; how my life was not impacted by a more involved figure, such as a family member, or prominent speaker. My answer is this: How great of a thinker would a person have to be, to go on changing the lives of others years after he/she is gone? How wonderful would it be to one day become that person? The greatest success is to know that the time I spent on this earth will not go unnoticed; to know that I lived every moment as if it were more important than the last, and that when all is over, not all is lost.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Perspective
The average person blinks anywhere from 15-25 times a minute. It is a monotonous and habitual bodily function that is so common and so completely ordinary that one will fail to detect its mere existence at almost every occurrence. Breathing too, is just another instinct instilled upon us for the simple fact that we are alive. Everything living will breathe; yet hardly any will notice when they do so. Existences like these are not acknowledged until someone or something causes a discrepancy in their pattern.
During the summer of 2006, I found a discrepancy. I spent the night at Hannah’s; her small cozy house was enough to accommodate us, but a phone call changed our plans for the night and it looked as if the evening was now going to be spent in her backyard with two others. The night air was cool, starry and slightly crisp. Nothing however, placed this night above the rest, and it was flying by as quickly as it had started, with no regards for time. A few hours later, I felt a chill making its way up my spine and into my shoulders. The early hours of the morn were bringing the cold air with them and I heard some one say “soon the sun will be coming up.” Then, it occurred to me...I had never before watched a sunrise. People talk of the sun setting, and how magnificent it is, but have they ever seen it awake?
There, in that small dirty little backyard I witnessed a spectacular event. The chill left my shoulders—the sky dissolved from black to yellow. The sun was not yet so bright that it could not be gazed upon, but in contrast, had a most mesmerizing effect on the eyes. I wondered how something so powerful could be so silent when it made its grand entrance to mankind, and how something so beautiful is overlooked by millions of people everyday. As the bright orange ball emerged effortlessly into the sky, I realized that I blinked. In this pivotal moment, I noticed, in depth, the common ordinaries that I had not before. The sun was higher and brighter than when I last gazed upon it, and the split second it took to shut my eyes and open them again made a difference. Previous perspectives on what was wonderful in life were changed—substance thus revealed. Beauty and discovery were birthed inside of a wooden fence.
The backyard is an unforgettable place not because of what it was, but because of what it became. It is exceptional because it housed a “discrepancy” that shorted my breath and expanded the space from one lash to the other for the first time. The rarities in the world today can only be recognized if one cherishes its ordinaries. Moreover, the sun will awake and disappear every 24 hours, and while few will open their eyes to the habitual existence, I will gaze upon it with the knowledge that the brink of discovery is in plain sight...our job is nothing more than to distinguish it.
During the summer of 2006, I found a discrepancy. I spent the night at Hannah’s; her small cozy house was enough to accommodate us, but a phone call changed our plans for the night and it looked as if the evening was now going to be spent in her backyard with two others. The night air was cool, starry and slightly crisp. Nothing however, placed this night above the rest, and it was flying by as quickly as it had started, with no regards for time. A few hours later, I felt a chill making its way up my spine and into my shoulders. The early hours of the morn were bringing the cold air with them and I heard some one say “soon the sun will be coming up.” Then, it occurred to me...I had never before watched a sunrise. People talk of the sun setting, and how magnificent it is, but have they ever seen it awake?
There, in that small dirty little backyard I witnessed a spectacular event. The chill left my shoulders—the sky dissolved from black to yellow. The sun was not yet so bright that it could not be gazed upon, but in contrast, had a most mesmerizing effect on the eyes. I wondered how something so powerful could be so silent when it made its grand entrance to mankind, and how something so beautiful is overlooked by millions of people everyday. As the bright orange ball emerged effortlessly into the sky, I realized that I blinked. In this pivotal moment, I noticed, in depth, the common ordinaries that I had not before. The sun was higher and brighter than when I last gazed upon it, and the split second it took to shut my eyes and open them again made a difference. Previous perspectives on what was wonderful in life were changed—substance thus revealed. Beauty and discovery were birthed inside of a wooden fence.
The backyard is an unforgettable place not because of what it was, but because of what it became. It is exceptional because it housed a “discrepancy” that shorted my breath and expanded the space from one lash to the other for the first time. The rarities in the world today can only be recognized if one cherishes its ordinaries. Moreover, the sun will awake and disappear every 24 hours, and while few will open their eyes to the habitual existence, I will gaze upon it with the knowledge that the brink of discovery is in plain sight...our job is nothing more than to distinguish it.
expectations of college
The hour has finally fallen upon me to find myself, the qualities I possess, and the wonders of my works; thus I have embarked on college for nothing more than to discover.
I expect that I will not only gain a great deal of knowledge from the classroom but from outside sources as well. Commodities such as people skills, independence and the meaning of hard work will be acquired quicker as a college student rather than one who does not pursue a higher level of education. These skills and many more are what I will need to acquire in order to perform at my best ability in the work force. However, as I have a high tendency to become overwhelmed with multiple tasks (which is inevitable during the course of the school year) I hope to alleviate the feelings of anxiety and stress by exercising regularly and developing procedures to calm the senses. Activities such as being social, getting involved in organizations and healthy sleeping habits will likely ease my mind and body of its tension from a days work.
Nonetheless, in a brief four years I plan to have accomplished many goals that I knew were possible and some that I was told my fingers would never quite grasp. Though the amount of time I will bear on this campus is short, it will not be wasted nor squandered on less meaningful ideals than success. To have studied abroad and become more cultured, to have done well for the first time in math, to have experienced and gained the knowledge needed to be superior in my field, and alas to have become recognized for my endeavors as a journalist is what I hope to attain by the time I am a graduate student.
If at the end of my four year journey there is a monument in my name, I suspect that it will reveal a colorful world of pain, sweat, passion, several periods of adjustment, enlightenment, a lapse of years, and a much valued end product. However, I am alone in the quest to reach my goals and move beyond my boundaries. My choices will make the biggest impact on my success rate; when to be studious and when to rebel, when to rest and when to be active, when to be silenced and when to be opinionated.
I have come to a place of higher instruction so that I may make a difference in the lives of the people through writing. At times talent is simply not enough, and as it falls short in life I will have discovered skills, and a sharper sense of my calling to comfort its descending.
I expect that I will not only gain a great deal of knowledge from the classroom but from outside sources as well. Commodities such as people skills, independence and the meaning of hard work will be acquired quicker as a college student rather than one who does not pursue a higher level of education. These skills and many more are what I will need to acquire in order to perform at my best ability in the work force. However, as I have a high tendency to become overwhelmed with multiple tasks (which is inevitable during the course of the school year) I hope to alleviate the feelings of anxiety and stress by exercising regularly and developing procedures to calm the senses. Activities such as being social, getting involved in organizations and healthy sleeping habits will likely ease my mind and body of its tension from a days work.
Nonetheless, in a brief four years I plan to have accomplished many goals that I knew were possible and some that I was told my fingers would never quite grasp. Though the amount of time I will bear on this campus is short, it will not be wasted nor squandered on less meaningful ideals than success. To have studied abroad and become more cultured, to have done well for the first time in math, to have experienced and gained the knowledge needed to be superior in my field, and alas to have become recognized for my endeavors as a journalist is what I hope to attain by the time I am a graduate student.
If at the end of my four year journey there is a monument in my name, I suspect that it will reveal a colorful world of pain, sweat, passion, several periods of adjustment, enlightenment, a lapse of years, and a much valued end product. However, I am alone in the quest to reach my goals and move beyond my boundaries. My choices will make the biggest impact on my success rate; when to be studious and when to rebel, when to rest and when to be active, when to be silenced and when to be opinionated.
I have come to a place of higher instruction so that I may make a difference in the lives of the people through writing. At times talent is simply not enough, and as it falls short in life I will have discovered skills, and a sharper sense of my calling to comfort its descending.
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