misc
I used to be proud to tell people that I enjoy trekking and will be trying my hand at mountaineering soon. I was proud because trekking and mountaineering are activities that many people dream of, but only a few take up. But this pride is ebbing away because I have come to realize that my interests/’achievements’ are unspectacular. Anyone can climb Kinabalu or trek in Nepal given sufficient time and money. More than any other factor, my interest/’achievements’ should be attributed to my supportive parents. That may be personally important, but it is surely nothing to shout about. I have been lucky in many ways, that is all there is to it.
Pride wise, I am rather ashamed of myself for being technically incompetent. I struggle to climb the simplest routes and do not even attempt the more difficult ones. That is not the mark of a person who prides himself for his love of such activities. It only reflects that I am someone who has the resources to do fancy (and easy) treks overseas but lacks skills to do simple (and cheaper) technical rock-climbing. I remain interested in such activities, but I am not proud of being defined that way.
Perhaps I cannot expect too much, for I did not put in the effort to become a better rock-climber. I did not even do physical conditioning regularly. Having been exposed to similar activities since I was young, I expected myself to have an affinity with such activities. I have learnt that it is unreasonable to expect myself to have natural talent in a particular area. For many people, improved performance only comes with consistent training.
Rock-climbing reminds me of mathematics. I used to be proud that I am talented in math and can solve problems that many others cannot. However, looking back, I cannot seem to identify any period of time where I actually put in a lot of effort to improve my math. In secondary school, math was, as strange as it sounds, a social activity. All of us in the Math Olympiad Team will do math together during lazy afternoons in school or on Saturday mornings in NUS. I did math certainly because I was good at it and found it to be fun, but also because my friends were doing it. Saturday mornings were characterized more by Spinelli spins and curry puffs than the 7-mark problems. It only made sense to join my friends in doing math. When the math got too difficult and required more effort from me, I packed up and went away. Math is not for me anymore, I reasoned, and my problem solving ability has hardly improved since then. Against such a backdrop, do I still have reason to be proud of my above-average math abilities? Is being above-average in something sufficient for being proud in something?
Like having trekked in many countries, being above-average in math makes me stand out. Like having trekked in many countries, being above-average in math required little effort and conversely, involved much fun. Like having trekked in many countries, being above-average in math was a goal that I did not, for very long, consciously seek out. Crucially, I did little to further actively develop myself in both areas.
Upon reflection, my life has been somewhat of a contradiction. I get recognized for things that I put in the least effort. On the other hand, all my pursuits - doing volunteer work, getting to know more people, becoming better in badminton and tennis - have met with scant success. I believe in what I strive for and put in more time and effort into them than into things which I get recognized for. What am I to make of this? I feel displaced and lacking of direction. To be fair, I still enjoy math and trekking/rock-climbing and do consider them to be among my pursuits. Thinking about why I have not been more steadfast in developing these pursuits makes me even more confused.
More than ever, I feel overawed by the hype that surrounds me. All the hopes and expectations that I would do well as a scholar, that I will do well in oxford, that I will become a good citizen of the world in my own way. I wonder what people see in me and my story. Do they see a remarkable person rising from an unremarkable environment or remarkable environments shaping an unremarkable person? Have they heard of my stories or do they have their own?
I think I need to be motivated and moved. I don’t feel like I am growing anymore. I am reflexively doing my duties and attending to my weekend commitments. I am not deadened to the external world yet but I hardly feel the excitement and the challenge anymore, partly because I readily shrink away from them. But if there’s one thing that I have learnt so far, it is that I need to be passionately engaged. The self and the world cannot be thought of and treated separately; they need to be harmonized into a whole. Success and fulfillment do not come from hard work and perseverance alone; hard work and perseverance need to be applied to causes which the self is already motivated towards. My pursuits need to engage the entire person. I have not felt engaged in a long while.
Sometimes I stare into the future and try to imagine what I would be like in 10 to 20 years time. I daydream a lot and have many different dreams of the future. I spend afternoons dreaming about I could be a successful freelance tour guide who brings people to every corner of the world. I would tell them the history of western civilization while exploring Roman ruins and popular legends surrounding the Greater Middle East while descending into Istanbul by a hot-air balloon.
I dream about collecting important awards from important people for pioneering worldwide changes in social work and education. Surrounded by well-wishers, I would feel strangely honoured but not out-of-place. I would look back into my past and be surprised (but proud) of how I got the award by simply pursuing my interests all my life.
Of course, I also dream about becoming a world-class mathematician who is not only gifted, but is also bringing new crowds of people to like math and excel in it. I dream of emulating Chris Sharma as I climb impossible walls in Dairy Farm and the Himalayas.
Soon enough, I will get jolted out of my daydreams. As reality hardens, I will look into the mirror and reconsider how I will be in the future. Invariably, thoughts about my past and present states will come into mind and threaten to envelop talk about the future. Will I be strong enough to determine where I end up in future, or will the past continue to sweep me forward relentlessly, as I lay in meek submission? Am I going to end up in one of the faceless crowds toiling in the bureaucracy, comfortable but drained, stable but meaninglessly so?
It’s tiring to choose and to force things to go your way all the time. It’s tiring to think about which way you want to go too. Increasingly, I resign myself to the force of everything around me and slip into the mindset that things only appear as we want them to appear. I would drop grand modern notions of success and be content to find meaning in the small and routine things I do, whatever those may be.
I don’t know if this is the right way to approach the future. I just hope that things will turn out that way.
Pride wise, I am rather ashamed of myself for being technically incompetent. I struggle to climb the simplest routes and do not even attempt the more difficult ones. That is not the mark of a person who prides himself for his love of such activities. It only reflects that I am someone who has the resources to do fancy (and easy) treks overseas but lacks skills to do simple (and cheaper) technical rock-climbing. I remain interested in such activities, but I am not proud of being defined that way.
Perhaps I cannot expect too much, for I did not put in the effort to become a better rock-climber. I did not even do physical conditioning regularly. Having been exposed to similar activities since I was young, I expected myself to have an affinity with such activities. I have learnt that it is unreasonable to expect myself to have natural talent in a particular area. For many people, improved performance only comes with consistent training.
Rock-climbing reminds me of mathematics. I used to be proud that I am talented in math and can solve problems that many others cannot. However, looking back, I cannot seem to identify any period of time where I actually put in a lot of effort to improve my math. In secondary school, math was, as strange as it sounds, a social activity. All of us in the Math Olympiad Team will do math together during lazy afternoons in school or on Saturday mornings in NUS. I did math certainly because I was good at it and found it to be fun, but also because my friends were doing it. Saturday mornings were characterized more by Spinelli spins and curry puffs than the 7-mark problems. It only made sense to join my friends in doing math. When the math got too difficult and required more effort from me, I packed up and went away. Math is not for me anymore, I reasoned, and my problem solving ability has hardly improved since then. Against such a backdrop, do I still have reason to be proud of my above-average math abilities? Is being above-average in something sufficient for being proud in something?
Like having trekked in many countries, being above-average in math makes me stand out. Like having trekked in many countries, being above-average in math required little effort and conversely, involved much fun. Like having trekked in many countries, being above-average in math was a goal that I did not, for very long, consciously seek out. Crucially, I did little to further actively develop myself in both areas.
Upon reflection, my life has been somewhat of a contradiction. I get recognized for things that I put in the least effort. On the other hand, all my pursuits - doing volunteer work, getting to know more people, becoming better in badminton and tennis - have met with scant success. I believe in what I strive for and put in more time and effort into them than into things which I get recognized for. What am I to make of this? I feel displaced and lacking of direction. To be fair, I still enjoy math and trekking/rock-climbing and do consider them to be among my pursuits. Thinking about why I have not been more steadfast in developing these pursuits makes me even more confused.
More than ever, I feel overawed by the hype that surrounds me. All the hopes and expectations that I would do well as a scholar, that I will do well in oxford, that I will become a good citizen of the world in my own way. I wonder what people see in me and my story. Do they see a remarkable person rising from an unremarkable environment or remarkable environments shaping an unremarkable person? Have they heard of my stories or do they have their own?
I think I need to be motivated and moved. I don’t feel like I am growing anymore. I am reflexively doing my duties and attending to my weekend commitments. I am not deadened to the external world yet but I hardly feel the excitement and the challenge anymore, partly because I readily shrink away from them. But if there’s one thing that I have learnt so far, it is that I need to be passionately engaged. The self and the world cannot be thought of and treated separately; they need to be harmonized into a whole. Success and fulfillment do not come from hard work and perseverance alone; hard work and perseverance need to be applied to causes which the self is already motivated towards. My pursuits need to engage the entire person. I have not felt engaged in a long while.
Sometimes I stare into the future and try to imagine what I would be like in 10 to 20 years time. I daydream a lot and have many different dreams of the future. I spend afternoons dreaming about I could be a successful freelance tour guide who brings people to every corner of the world. I would tell them the history of western civilization while exploring Roman ruins and popular legends surrounding the Greater Middle East while descending into Istanbul by a hot-air balloon.
I dream about collecting important awards from important people for pioneering worldwide changes in social work and education. Surrounded by well-wishers, I would feel strangely honoured but not out-of-place. I would look back into my past and be surprised (but proud) of how I got the award by simply pursuing my interests all my life.
Of course, I also dream about becoming a world-class mathematician who is not only gifted, but is also bringing new crowds of people to like math and excel in it. I dream of emulating Chris Sharma as I climb impossible walls in Dairy Farm and the Himalayas.
Soon enough, I will get jolted out of my daydreams. As reality hardens, I will look into the mirror and reconsider how I will be in the future. Invariably, thoughts about my past and present states will come into mind and threaten to envelop talk about the future. Will I be strong enough to determine where I end up in future, or will the past continue to sweep me forward relentlessly, as I lay in meek submission? Am I going to end up in one of the faceless crowds toiling in the bureaucracy, comfortable but drained, stable but meaninglessly so?
It’s tiring to choose and to force things to go your way all the time. It’s tiring to think about which way you want to go too. Increasingly, I resign myself to the force of everything around me and slip into the mindset that things only appear as we want them to appear. I would drop grand modern notions of success and be content to find meaning in the small and routine things I do, whatever those may be.
I don’t know if this is the right way to approach the future. I just hope that things will turn out that way.