When I was around eight years old, I decided I was going to be a famous violinist. I also decided I was going to be an author, a dancer, a singer, an owner of a bakery, and the first person to visit another galaxy. At one point, I convinced myself that I would become a teacher too (I actually taught my younger sister English). I would also live in a pink castle facing the sea with my Prince Charming, golden retriever, sesame Shiba Inu and maybe two or three teacup cats. I was certain that I was going to have my life together by the very day I turned sixteen, and throw the biggest sweet sixteen ever, embellished with extravagant balloons, ribbons and cake like all the pretty girls did in the movies.
That last part is pretty funny to me because just last week, I turned seventeen and I think I'm even further from getting my life together than I was on the day I started. (Oh, and I never had that sweet sixteen birthday party.)
I wonder where all my options ran away to. To be frank with you here, nowadays I'm just another passenger riding on the train called life, quietly waiting to arrive at my predestined destination and letting the days roll by. I occasionally wonder why I'm not making any conscious effort to find my place on this planet, and I wonder why it seems like I'm counting on the parts of me to find me instead of the other way around. Do you feel?
An unknown source assured me, "Nothing in life is ever random. Everything that happens is supposed to happen. Trust the process."
I guess the parts of me that were meant to be will find me, just like how a few of my favorite things - for example, strawberry ice cream - found me.
I'm sure you can relate since we all have a favorite ice cream flavor that we didn't exactly choose - I guess you could say it chose us (that is unless you're not a fan of ice cream and I'm terribly sorry if that applies to you).
But here's the catch: if you and I never tried ice cream, how could we ever name our first choices?
If I only dreamed of becoming all those things as a kid, trusted that they would eventually magically transpire and yet never legitimately attempted to pursue them, then there's actually no surprise about the fact that I haven't traveled very far.
If we never put ourselves out there to try things we are afraid of, if we never make productive use of new opportunities, if we never venture out on new roads, if we never take risks, if we simply live quietly and follow everyone else, will we ever find our own individual reasons for living?
Becoming the person you were meant to be won't happen if you refuse to be open and not give yourself any chances. Here's a string of words to think about:
"People too often forget that it is your own choice how you want to spend the rest of your life."
- Rachel Wolchin
I am a determined believer in the idea that we are all born on this earth to accomplish something, be a certain somebody and serve a purpose. Yet we can't simply rely on fate to come around and take us where we need to go; we need to count on ourselves and our own actions more than simply destiny.
To the graduate who is now exploring options, please choose something you love. Or at least like. To anyone who is breathing and reading this, don't forget to spend some time for yourself, don't forget to seize the day and its opportunities, and don't forget to live for yourself too. It may be the mellow sound of the cello for one or the way colors can paint a memory for another. It may be solving intriguing algorithms, taking photographs of faces and places, helping others to help themselves or even experimenting in the chemistry laboratory every day. Whatever you find that makes you happy and feel alive, do not let go of it. Chase it, because it is the very reason why you are alive.
