The last few weeks have been, at times, deliciously busy, and at other times, completely relaxing.
Highlights:
>> Hanging out by the Han River on Buddha's Birthday Eve
>> Singing Contest
>> Sports Day
>> My first (and certainly not last) Korean baseball game (they have cheerleaders. I'm serious.)
>> Potlucks (Citrus and Initials - fantastically random and delicious!)
>> A new (albeit fun-sized) refrigerator
>> Gwangju Trivia Night (post to come!)
>> Reassuring eye appointments (I am now the proud recipient (is that the right word?) of 20/20 vision!)
>> Fantastic food (DUH.) in the way of sushi, Thai, Indian, and homemade accidents
>> Purchasing plane tickets for an Iowan getaway (July 28 - August 11)! Sooo excited!
And now, you're up to speed :)
This morning, I read the high school commencement speech given at Wellesley High School near Boston. The title (which I stole for this very post) was, at first, a little off-putting. Nobody wants to hear that they're not special. But, the further I read, the more I realized, like whoa, that the kid's right: we're raised to think that we are unique; different; that we offer the world something that no one else does... which is precisely why we're not special. Think about it :)
Some excerpts:
In our unspoken but not so subtle Darwinian competition with one another–which springs, I think, from our fear of our own insignificance, a subset of our dread of mortality — we have of late, we Americans, to our detriment, come to love accolades more than genuine achievement. We have come to see them as the point — and we’re happy to compromise standards, or ignore reality, if we suspect that’s the quickest way, or only way, to have something to put on the mantelpiece, something to pose with, crow about, something with which to leverage ourselves into a better spot on the social totem pole. No longer is it how you play the game, no longer is it even whether you win or lose, or learn or grow, or enjoy yourself doing it... Now it’s “So what does this get me?” As a consequence, we cheapen worthy endeavors, and building a Guatemalan medical clinic becomes more about the application to Bowdoin than the well-being of Guatemalans. It’s an epidemic.
If you’ve learned anything in your years here I hope it’s that education should be for, rather than material advantage, the exhilaration of learning. You’ve learned, too, I hope, as Sophocles assured us, that wisdom is the chief element of happiness. (Second is ice cream... just an fyi) I also hope you’ve learned enough to recognize how little you know... how little you know now... at the moment... for today is just the beginning. It’s where you go from here that matters.
As you commence, then, and before you scatter to the winds, I urge you to do whatever you do for no reason other than you love it and believe in its importance. Don’t bother with work you don’t believe in any more than you would a spouse you’re not crazy about, lest you too find yourself on the wrong side of a Baltimore Orioles comparison. Resist the easy comforts of complacency, the specious glitter of materialism, the narcotic paralysis of self-satisfaction. Be worthy of your advantages. And read... read all the time... read as a matter of principle, as a matter of self-respect. Read as a nourishing staple of life. Develop and protect a moral sensibility and demonstrate the character to apply it. Dream big. Work hard. Think for yourself. Love everything you love, everyone you love, with all your might. And do so, please, with a sense of urgency, for every tick of the clock subtracts from fewer and fewer; and as surely as there are commencements there are cessations, and you’ll be in no condition to enjoy the ceremony attendant to that eventuality no matter how delightful the afternoon.
Like accolades ought to be, the fulfilled life is a consequence, a gratifying byproduct. It’s what happens when you’re thinking about more important things. Climb the mountain not to plant your flag, but to embrace the challenge, enjoy the air and behold the view. Climb it so you can see the world, not so the world can see you. Go to Paris to be in Paris, not to cross it off your list and congratulate yourself for being worldly. Exercise free will and creative, independent thought not for the satisfactions they will bring you, but for the good they will do others, the rest of the 6.8 billion–and those who will follow them. And then you too will discover the great and curious truth of the human experience is that selflessness is the best thing you can do for yourself. The sweetest joys of life, then, come only with the recognition that you’re not special. Because everyone is.
I'm still in awe that this was written by a high school senior. Pretty profound, I think. It is so rare that someone says (or in this case, writes) something that I think,
YES! That almost makes too much sense to me...
(honestly - I can think of one person for whom this consistently held true: my dear kindred spirit Lu Smith - gosh I miss her!) so reading this on this delightful Sunday morning was more than a breath of fresh air for me - I felt moved, inspired, ready to change in some way. And now I'm getting strangely philosophical and I think I've made my point: I
really liked this speech.
(Despite how this may look, I did not, in fact, include the whole speech (hence, the excerpts...) so,
here's the whole thing, reprinted by the
Boston Herald, in case you're interested.)
Also, I watched
this video this morning on
this fresh and simple blog and found it quite refreshing and something about which I intend to become much more intentional.
And, even though I've watched these videos about a hundred times, they're still completely delightful and if you haven't seen them, I want to share them with you:
Eat
Move
Learn
